Twisted Fate
by saiken2009
Summary: The boys go on a trip and accidentally discover an ancient artifact that is much more than it seems. But someone else wants it. Can they work together with a new friend to save the world from an evil being?
1. Surprise

Author's Note: This whole fic is for my friend PlushChrome. It is set in modern times. AU sorta crossover of sorts with a certain movie she and I both love. I'm not labeling it as a crossover, because it's not going to be a definite crossover. It's mostly going to be monkee based and all monkee perspective.

Chapter 1: Surprise

Mike sat at the kitchen table reading the morning's newspaper. There wasn't much in it and he'd already looked over it several times, but he was trying to keep himself busy. He was the ruse, after all. When Davy woke up, he sauntered into the kitchen looking a little excited. Mike fought desperately to hold back a smile. He just nodded in Davy's direction trying to muster up a fake tired greeting. Davy bought it because as soon as he did, Davy's smile fell. Mike felt bad about hurting Davy's feelings like this, but he knew it would all be worth it in the end.

"Where are Micky and Peter?" Davy asked.

"Out," Mike answered simply.

"Out where?" Davy pushed.

"I don't know," Mike lied. "Didn't ask."

"They're out? Today? Really?" Davy asked. Mike knew he was hurt that his friends weren't there, but Mike had to play along for this to work.

"Yeah," Mike answered. "Does it really matter?"

"Well do you know when they'll be back?" Davy asked.

"No," Mike lied again. "If you want some breakfast, we're out of milk, but there's a few bucks on the counter if you wanna run up to the market."

"You must be joking," Davy answered.

"No," Mike replied nonchalantly. "Micky got to the cereal before you."

"He eats his cereal with orange juice," Davy pointed out. Mike had forgotten about that little fact and almost slipped up. But he was quicker than Davy and came up with a simple answer.

"We were out of orange juice so he had to resort to milk," Mike answered blankly, never once taking his eyes away from the paper. "Oh, and the car is out of gas so you'll have to walk."

"This is unbelievable!" Davy exclaimed and snatched the money off the counter. Mike watched out of the corner of his eye as Davy stormed off out the front door. As soon as the door closed, Mike jumped up from the table and knocked on the bathroom door. Micky and Peter bounded out and looked at Mike.

"He's gone," Mike said. "We don't have much time. Make it fast." Micky and Peter nodded and darted off to Davy's room while Mike moved to the doorway to keep watch for Davy. Mike was right about them not having much time, after only half an hour, Mike could see Davy walking back up the street toward their house. He looked really mad. Quickly dashing over to the table, Mike yelled that Davy was coming back and a second later, Micky and Peter emerged from his room carrying two suitcases before dashing out the back door. Mike put his feet back up on the table and picked the paper back up to make it look like he hadn't moved. When Davy walked in, he nearly slammed the milk down on the table.

"What's the matter, Davy?" Mike asked.

"What's the matter!?" Davy echoed loudly as Micky and Peter came back in the room. "What's the matter is that you three are horrible!"

"What did we do?" Micky asked innocently.

"You stole all the milk and made me go to the store to get it!" Davy exclaimed. "And on today of all days!"

"Today?" Peter echoed. "Why does that matter? Is today special?"

"Are you serious!?" Davy boomed. Mike really did feel terrible, but he had to keep his mouth shut. But he was taken off guard when Davy stared daggers at him. "Mike?"

"What?" Mike managed.

"This is insane," Davy exclaimed. "I would have thought you of all people…never mind! Just forget it!" Davy stormed off to his room and slammed the door behind him.

"Mike, can we please just tell him?" Peter pled.

"It has to be a surprise," Micky said.

"But he's so upset!" Peter answered looking very distraught.

"Peter, it'll be worth it tonight," Mike said.

"What if he realizes his stuff's gone?" Micky asked.

"Did you leave any sign you were in there?" Mike asked.

"No," Micky answered.

"Then we should be fine," Mike answered. "He's probably just going to stew in there for the rest of the day anyway."

"I don't know," Peter mumbled again. "Are we sure he's not gonna hate us?"

"Not a chance," Micky said. "You'll see. Come tonight, his eyes are gonna light up and he's gonna love us."

"I hope you're right," Peter said sinking into the chair. They spent the rest of the day trying to avoid Davy so they wouldn't let on about what they were planning. It wasn't exactly easy because Davy pretty much kept to himself in his room. Peter once tried to get Davy to eat, but Davy had yelled that he wanted to be left alone. When night fell, Mike was worried they wouldn't be able to get Davy to even leave the room.

"We just stick to the plan," Micky said.

"I don't know that it'll work," Mike answered.

"It has to," Micky said. "If it doesn't, we can blindfold him and drag his butt there."

"Or we could just tell him now," Peter said.

"We promised we wouldn't say anything until we got there," Micky answered.

"How's he gonna know?" Peter asked. "He's not even going to be there."

"We are men of our word, Peter," Mike said. "You more than the rest of us."

"I know, I just hate that Davy's mad at us," Peter said.

"He won't be for much longer," Micky said.

"If we can get him to leave," Mike pointed out. "And no, we aren't tying him up and blindfolding him."

"Have it your way," Micky smiled. "But we have to get him there somehow."

"Well, there's only one way to find out if this will work," Mike said and knocked on Davy's door.

"Go away!" Davy yelled from the other side.

"I know you're mad, but I heard about an audition tonight," Mike said. "We have to leave now if we're going to go."

"Let's not," Davy answered. Peter bit his bottom lip in worry.

"Davy, we need this gig," Mike said. "Can you just put aside your anger for a bit? Please? We'll talk about it when we get home. I promise."

"What if I don't want to talk about it?" Davy answered.

"You have to sometime," Micky said. "Come on, buddy, we're your best friends."

"Oh really?" Davy said ripping open the door in anger. "My best friends wouldn't do what you guys did to me!" Behind him, Peter whined a little, clearly a upset that Davy was so hurt and angry.

"Let's just go to the audition and we'll talk about it later," Mike said shooting Micky a look that told him to be quiet and not make things worse.

"No," Davy said. "I don't want to do an audition with you guys."

"Davy, please?" Mike pled not knowing what else to do. Micky shot Mike a look behind Davy's back and mimed that he could knock Davy out. Mike shot a stern look back that said 'absolutely not'.

"Davy, I'm sorry we upset you, but it would mean a lot to us if you could come," Peter said. "It'll be worth it." Then he muttered softly so that only Mike could hear. "I hope."

"Fine," Davy sighed. "But you owe me."

"Definitely," Mike said as they walked out to the car together. The whole drive over no one said anything, but when they got to the airport, Davy looked around in confusion.

"The audition is at the airport?" Davy asked.

"Not really, mate," Micky said walking to the back of the car and pulling a sheet off what Davy had thought were their instruments but in reality was their luggage.

"What?" Davy said confused. Mike pulled four plane tickets out of his back pocket and showed them to Davy.

"A gift from your grandfather," Mike told him. "He made us swear not to tell you till we got to the airport. Wanted it to be a surprise."

"Wanted what to be a surprise?" Davy asked cautiously.

"Davy, your slower than Peter!" Micky exclaimed with a goofy grin. "We're going to England!"

"What?" Davy asked.

"Happy birthday, Davy!" Peter said with a smile.

"Really?" Davy said.

"Think these are fake?" Micky asked taking one of the tickets from Mike. "Not a chance. Your grandpa wanted to celebrate your 21st birthday with you, but couldn't come here."

"He figured you missed home anyway, and knew you wouldn't want to spend your birthday without us, either," Mike added. "So he sprung for tickets for all of us. Said he has another surprise for you when you get home."

"So you guys really didn't forget my birthday?" Davy asked getting teary eyed.

"How could we forget your birthday?" Mike laughed. "It's the same as mine!"

"That's why I was so upset you'd forgotten!" Davy exclaimed. "I thought how could you forget when we share it! I was mad at Peter and Micky, but even more mad at you! We're really going to England!?"

"If we ever catch the plane," Micky said grabbing the suitcases. Davy asked questions the whole way to the plane itself, still unable to believe they'd pulled it off.

"How did you get my stuff packed?" Davy asked.

"The little trip you took to the store this morning," Mike answered. "I'm sorry, but I had to make you leave so Peter and Micky could get in there and pack your stuff. I played lookout."

"So they weren't really gone?" Davy asked shaking his head.

"No, I lied," Mike answered. "They were hiding in the bathroom for you to leave, then snuck into your room to pack your stuff and snuck out the back to store it in the car with ours. I'm sorry I lied."

"You guys are evil," Davy said.

"No we aren't," Peter answered. "Your grandpa made us swear to keep it a surprise as long as possible. Till we got to the airport."

"It's a joke, Peter," Micky said. "He doesn't really mean we're evil."

"Oh," Peter laughed. Mike smiled knowing that Davy was no longer mad at them. He was excited to be going home. While they waited to board, Davy started babbling a little about how England would be. This wasn't the first time they'd gone to England, but the last time they'd gone, they hadn't visited Davy's childhood home. They hadn't even gone to Manchester. So now Davy was bubbling with excitement to show his friends everywhere that was special to him. If Mike weren't so happy that Davy was happy, he'd have found it highly annoying. Even during the layover when they all shared a nice meal in the airport, also paid for by Davy's grandfather, Mike didn't let himself get annoyed by Davy's excitement. Davy slept for a while the way and some of the way to England, which quieted him for a bit. But when the plane finally touched down in Manchester, Davy's excitement grew. When they got to the terminal, Mike looked around with the others for Davy's grandfather. He was waiting with a crowd of other people and smiled when he spotted them. The four made their way over to Mr. Jones and Davy hugged him upon seeing him. Mike, Micky and the others shook his hand.

"Thanks for the trip, Grandpa," Davy said excitedly.

"Did the boys keep their word?" Mr. Jones asked. "Did they surprise you?"

"I'll say," Davy said. "I thought they'd forgotten all about my birthday. Then they drove me to the airport thinking I was going to an audition."

"That's excellent," Mr. Jones smiled. "I have another surprise for you in the morning. In the meantime, let's get you boys fed some dinner while I have your bags brought to the house and your rooms set up."

"You don't have to do that, Mr. Jones," Mike said.

"It's already done," Mr. Jones said pointing to the baggage claim. Sure enough, a well-dressed man with a cart was pulling the boys luggage off the conveyor. "It's the least I can do, Michael. I believe it is also your birthday, too. Well it was yesterday."

"Yeah, but this is a big year for Davy," Mike answered.

"Nonetheless," Mr. Jones said. "I already have reservations. You boys must be tired and hungry. The sooner we eat, the sooner you can go to bed."

"Ok, then," Mike said giving in. He really was hungry and wasn't going to turn down food, but he didn't want to take much of the attention away from Davy. He didn't like being fussed over and his birthday was no exception. Besides that, 21 was a big year, even if Davy had no desire to drink or do anything else he was now legally allowed to do.


	2. Tourists

Author's Note: Special thanks to Dragonsrme for giving me information about Manchester. Thanks!

Chapter 2: Tourists

The four of them sat around the breakfast table the next morning. It was like eating a gourmet feast; Micky had never eaten like that before. Mr. Jones had his own cook living in his mansion along with a maid and a butler who had taken the boys' bags to a room and set up their beds and closets. Micky was amazed that anyone actually lived like that. Davy had told them the night before that he'd grown up surrounded by all this and was used to it. He said his grandfather always respected the hired help and gave them time off when they needed and everyone was more like family than employees. His grandfather didn't expect them to wait on him hand and foot; they just helped out when needed. Each of the boys had their own room as the house contained half a dozen rooms plus a study and a library, which Peter and Micky intended on visiting later. His grandfather had even built a music room for Davy when he was younger and had shown an interest in music. It was a little overwhelming for Micky and the others, but it was at least nice to have his own room for once. And the huge breakfast consisting of pancakes, eggs, sausage, toast, and orange juice.

"So what was this other surprise you had for me?" Davy asked.

"You remember my fondness for archaeology?" Mr. Jones asked.

"Of course," Davy answered. "Half the decorations and artwork in this place are replicas of the artifacts you found."

"Replicas?" Mike asked looking at the artifacts around the room. "They aren't real?"

"No, everything I find gets donated to the museum," Mr. Jones answered. "My reason for funding the expeditions is not to _have_ the artifacts, but to learn more about our history. If I dug things up and kept them, we'd never learn anything about them and we'd never learn anything about our history. The scientists study whatever they find and then they go on display in museums around the world so our children can learn about them, too. You can't privatize history. No one person should be able to own history. It needs to be shared with the world."

"Well said," Peter smiled.

"What's this got to do with my surprise?" Davy asked.

"Well, I recently helped fund a local dig and they found quite the array of items," Mr. Jones answered. "So the museum is going to make a whole room to showcase the artifacts and they are naming the room after me. There will be a plaque on the wall honoring me on the door to the room. And they're putting your name on the plaque, too."

"My name?" Davy asked. "Why my name?"

"As a contributor," Mr. Jones answered.

"I didn't do anything," Davy said.

"I don't know if you remember this, but when you were about 5, you and your nanny went riding horses," Mr. Jones started. "You took off on your own and got lost. When we finally found you, you were in a field holding a very old golden goblet. We asked you where you got it and you told us you had dug it up from the field. I had my friend take a look at that goblet and it turned out to be early Middle Ages. The land was owned by a very ornery old man who wouldn't let me start digging there, but he passed away a few years ago and the land was left to his daughter. I told her the story and she agreed to let me finally dig. That's where the latest expedition was. And you, my dear boy, are the one who technically found it, so I made sure the museum put your name next to mine. There's going to be a big ceremony and everything."

"Really?" Davy brightened. "I don't remember any of that."

"He didn't get in trouble for taking off like that?" Mike asked.

"Of course he did," Mr. Jones laughed. "He was five years old! He was grounded for a month! But that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve part of the credit."

"Wow," Davy breathed.

"You'll also be getting part of the stipend, of course," Mr. Jones added.

"Stipend?" Peter asked. "I thought you donated everything."

"It is donated," Mr. Jones answered. "But the museum is all non-profit, so the proceeds they earn from the sales of admission go to some of the stockholders. I am a very big stockholder because I've donated quite a bit, and now Davy is too."

"Wow," Davy breathed again.

"So when's this big ceremony?" Micky asked.

"In a few days," Mr. Jones answered. "There is going to be a nice formal dinner after the ribbon cutting."

"Oh," Peter said, his voice dropping slightly. "We didn't really pack any formal attire for Davy. We were kind of in a hurry when we packed."

"Not to worry," Mr. Jones laughed. "I already made arrangements for you to go shopping in town today. A driver will be here to pick you boys up later and I will be giving Mike enough for your suits and any other souvenirs you boys may want."

"That's not necessary, Mr. Jones," Mike started. "We don't really need any souvenirs."

"Wait, did you say suits?" Micky asked. "Plural?"

"You boys didn't think that Davy would be the only one attending, did you?" Mr. Jones said. "You're all invited."

"I've never been to an event like that before," Peter mused. "Well, we have when it was a gig, but not as an invited guest."

"I've been," Davy said. "Most of the time they're pretty boring, to be honest."

"They were boring because you were a little boy that liked to get into things he shouldn't have been getting into, so I wouldn't let you leave the table," Mr. Jones said somewhat sternly. "Since you're an adult now, I would hope I don't have to do that. You should be much better behaved."

"I'm not so sure about that, Mr. Jones," Micky laughed.

"I think it'll be Micky you'll have to keep an eye on," Davy shot back. "He's the biggest child out of all of us."

"Cool it, guys," Mike said before Micky could retort. "We appreciate it, Mr. Jones, but we really don't need the extra money."

"No, but this is supposed to be a vacation; you should enjoy it," Mr. Jones answered. Mike opened his mouth to argue some more, but Mr. Jones held up his hand to stop him. "Not another word on it, son. It's already done. The driver has already been paid for his services including any sight-seeing you boys would like to do while you're here. I insist you all enjoy yourselves. Don't worry about money. You've done so much for Davy, it's the least I can do for you. Any family of Davy's is family of mine, too. Besides, it's also your birthday. Consider it my birthday present to you. And I understand that both of yours are also only a few months away. February and March? These are early birthday presents for you as well."

"Thank you, Mr. Jones," Mike said. A few hours later, the boys all filed into a car that took them into town. Micky's face was nearly glued to the window as he took in all the sights around them. It was freezing, but Micky didn't expect much else for December. The mansion Mr. Jones owned was out in the country surrounded by green fields and old cotton mills, but when they got into the city, Micky was in awe. Most of the city looked Victorian in architecture, but there were some modern buildings too. Most of the buildings were made of a beautiful red brick, almost making the whole city look red. They passed several railways and a canal that Davy told them was the Manchester ship canal that acted like a port. Trees lined the side of the streets giving the city cleaner air than LA. All in all, the city was beautiful.

They pulled in front of a small high-end clothing store. When they went inside, the owner had already set aside some suits for them to try on. Micky had never worn anything so fancy; the fabric felt so soft against his skin, unlike the other suits he wore that were cheap and scratchy. Micky almost didn't want to look at the price tag on the suit that finally fit him well. When they'd all found suitable suits, Mike paid the owner while the others loaded the clothes in the car. Davy offered to have them go sightseeing for the rest of the day since his grandfather didn't expect them back until much later. Davy took them to Victoria station, the CIS tower, Albert Square, and the various gothic-style cathedrals. They had spent hours wandering around and admiring the city. They stopped for a small lunch and ate it in one of the many parks scattered throughout the city.

As they ate, they watched all the people pass and the children playing. The city was about as big as any big city you would expect to see in the states, but it was cleaner because there was much more greenery. Despite how cold it was and the snow, the boys enjoyed just walking around. Micky smiled as the kids ran down the streets with their balls, sleds and other toys. There were even kids climbing trees and Micky wanted to join them, but Mike held him back. For some reason, these kids also seemed to be having more fun than the kids in the states. He briefly wondered if that was because most of the kids in the states preferred to stay inside and watch TV or other things. By the time they got back to the mansion, the cook was ready to serve dinner, so the boys quickly washed up and joined Mr. Jones for another huge feast.

Over the next few days, they toured the city even more and even went to areas outside the city. Davy even took them to a nearby ranch owned by a friend of his grandfather's and they rode horses for hours around the countryside. Davy even took them to several museums where the artifacts his grandfather had found were showcased. Davy took them to some of the places he liked to hang out as a kid and showed them some of the schools he went to. Davy seemed to be enjoying everything more than the rest of them, and Micky knew that coming here really was a good idea. He never realized just how much Davy missed his home. Micky only wished they could afford to bring Davy home more often.

When it finally came time to get ready for the ceremony honoring Davy, Micky found himself start to get very nervous. Even though he and Davy had only been joking, Micky did act like a child a lot, and he knew that. He usually didn't think there was anything wrong with it; he was just having fun after all. But he'd never been to an event like this before and he was terrified that he'd mess up and do something to embarrass Mr. Jones who had done so much for them. Not only had he opened his home to them, but he'd paid for their flight out there and for their sight-seeing adventures around the city. A soft knock came at his door as Micky was trying to adjust his tie and in his nervousness, he just couldn't get it right.

"Come in," Micky said giving up and undoing the whole tie to start over again.

"You ready, Mick?" Mike asked poking his head in.

"Almost," Micky answered. "I just can't seem to get this tie."

"You've done this before, Micky," Mike said coming into the room.

"I know, I'm just really nervous," Micky admitted.

"Nervous?" Mike echoed swatting Micky's hands away so he could do the tie the right way. "Why are you nervous?"

"Well, I'm not exactly used to running around in these kinds of social circles," Micky said. "And we both know how I am. I'm hyper and get a little out of control when I'm bored. What if I do something or say something to embarrass Davy or Mr. Jones?"

"Just remember to stay calm and relaxed, Micky," Mike said finishing up the tie. "You'll be fine."

"You think so?" Micky asked.

"As long as you focus on remaining calm, you'll be fine," Mike smiled. "Remember to breath. And just stay close to me so I can keep an eye on you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Micky said dryly.

"You'll be fine, Micky," Mike said. "Let's go."


	3. Ceremonial Dinner

Author's Note: Please review!

Chapter 3: Ceremonial Dinner

Micky waited with Mike and Peter in the audience while Davy sat next to his grandfather on a stage-area the museum had set up for the ribbon cutting ceremony. Micky was trying to be patient, but it seemed like they'd been sitting there forever. He started bouncing his leg and drumming on his knees when Mike shot him a look telling him to relax. Micky took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He was still bored out of his mind and couldn't wait for them to start the ceremony. Finally, after what seemed like hours, a woman got up on stage behind a microphone and Mike elbowed Peter on the other side of him to wake him up.

"Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen," the woman said. "I am pleased that you have all shown up today. We are here to honor a very important man who has made numerous, immeasurable contributions to the museum over the years." The woman went on for another half an hour talking about all the contributions Mr. Jones had made before introducing him. When Mr. Jones took the stage to a round of applause, he gave a speech. He told the story about how Davy had found the site and thanked Davy, the archaeologist and his team, and the new owner of the property who had finally let him dig there. Finally, it was time for Mr. Jones to cut the ribbon to the new room of the museum and dozens of reporters gathered around to take pictures as he cut it.

Once the ribbon cutting ceremony was over and all the pictures were taken, Mr. Jones and Davy had to shake hands with several VIPs before they gathered in a converted lecture hall for the dinner. In the room were several round tables with fancy tablecloths and delicate looking tableware. On the far end of the room was a long table setup for Davy, Mr. Jones, the archaeologist, the curator and several other members of the museum. Micky got a little disappointed when he realized that Davy wouldn't be sitting with them for dinner. When he approached the table an employee told them to sit at, he realized that their names were written on little cards.

They sat at the table with two members of the dig, Rick and John, who enjoyed regaling them with the stories of the items they dug up. Micky was a little more interested listening to all the stories, but he was still pretty bored. He looked up at the table Davy was sitting at occasionally and he appeared to be just as bored as Micky was. His grandfather was having a conversation with the museum curator and trying to involve Davy a little, but Davy was too busy yawning. Peter seemed more interested in hearing the stories from the crew at their table while Mike pretended to be interested, but Micky saw right through it; he was fighting the urge to fall asleep himself.

"You guys wanna see some of the stuff not on display yet?" Rick whispered excitedly.

"What?" Mike asked perking up.

"Can we really do that?" Peter asked excitedly.

"I really don't think we're allowed to do that," Mike said.

"Why not?" Rick asked.

"Isn't it not on display for a reason?" Mike asked.

"It's not on display because it hasn't been finished being analyzed," John said. "But we're the ones who are working on the artifacts. We have access to them; we can show them to you."

"Why would you want to do that?" Mike asked sounding skeptical.

"Who cares?" Peter asked excitedly. "It's really cool! We can see history before anyone else gets to!"

"I only offered because you guys seem bored," John said.

"We just aren't used to these upper crust things," Micky said.

"Neither are we," Rick said. "It's why we usually just sneak off and go work on the artifacts. Your friend seems really interested and there's nothing wrong with it."

"I say we go, Mike," Micky said. "It does sound cool."

"Alright," Mike relented, though he still looked a little suspicious. "If you're sure we won't get in trouble."

"No trouble, mate," John said. "Follow us." The three boys followed the two crew members out to the main part of the museum. When they reached a set of double doors with a security guard standing in front of it, they flashed a couple badges and the guard smiled.

"They're with us," John said as the guard opened the door for them. They walked into a hallway and through another door that opened into a large room that appeared to be a storage room with a bunch of laboratory equipment such as microscopes and sifters. The lab equipment lined the walls and the artifacts littered tables along the middle of the room. Micky stared in awe at all the artifacts on the table. Most of the items were already sorted into trays. There was one tray full of coins, one tray full of metallic bits of something, and a table with old bent crosses, swords, daggers and other large artifacts.

"Wow," Peter breathed.

"This is just the stuff not on display?" Mike asked clearly impressed.

"Yeah," John said. "Mostly just odds and ends. Or like the coins, something we have dozens of. The site was remarkably well preserved. We even found some human remains, but those are in a cooler for preservation."

"Human remains?" Mike asked. Micky shuddered a little himself at the thought.

"Yeah," John answered. "Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. We got lucky on this dig."

"What is this?" Peter asked pointing at a small leather-bound book.

"Near as we've been able to tell, it's someone's journal," John answered.

"Micky, don't touch anything," Mike warned as Micky found himself reaching for a ring in the center of the tray of jewelry.

"It's ok," Rick said. "Just put everything back where you found it. Not everything has been fully catalogued yet, but everything has been cleaned."

"I thought you catalogue stuff in the field?" Peter asked.

"We mark where we found stuff and label it with a number and give a brief description," Rick answered. "Like this coin would be 'round, metallic artifact' or something."

"Why not just say it's a coin?" Mike asked.

"We don't make any assumptions about anything until it's been analyzed," Rick answered. "Of course, we say it's a coin and we know it's a coin, but on paper, it's artifact 27-B-38."

"27-B-38?" Micky asked.

"The 27th artifact found in grid B section 38," Rick answered.

"Oh," Micky said. "Sounds very methodical."

"It is," John said. "It saves our butt if something ever comes into question."

"What do you mean?" Mike asked. "What would come into question?"

"The authenticity," John answered. "Have you guys ever heard of Piltdown Man?"

"No," Mike answered.

"I think I heard about that," Micky said. "It was a set of remains found here that were thought to be early human."

"Yeah, but then it was proven a forgery?" Peter asked.

"Exactly," John answered. "It was found in 1912 in Piltdown, East Sussex, by a man named Charles Dawson. It was said to be the missing link and it proved that our brain evolved first. This contradicted everything else being found suggesting our teeth and jawbones evolved first. In 1958, it was proven to be a hoax. Someone buried the jaw of an orangutan and the skull of a human after modifying them so they appeared to fit together."

"Why would someone do that?" Mike asked.

"People wanted to think that our brains evolved first," John answered. "It would make us less of an animal. At that time people were still having a hard time even accepting evolution."

"Who did it?" Mike asked.

"No one knows," John answered. "Dawson died 4 years after the bones were "found". But there are a lot of other suspects."

"Well, isn't that convenient," Mike muttered looking at a few of the other items on the table. Peter picked up the journal and began flipping through it carefully.

"I can't make anything out," Peter said trying to read.

"You can get a better look at the words with this," John said pointing at a large machine at the side of the room. "Come here; I'll show you." The other crew member soon joined Peter and started pointing various things out. Micky, however, was still fascinated by the ring he'd been reaching for earlier. He thought it might be best to just listen to Mike and not touch anything, but he'd been so bored all night; he deserved a little fun. Besides, he'd put it right back; he just wanted to see how it felt. He reached out and no sooner had his fingers closed around it, did he hear Mike chastising him again.

"Don't touch anything, Micky," Mike whispered.

"They said it was ok," Micky argued bringing the ring closer to his eyes. "Besides, I'm gonna put it right back."

"I'm more worried about you dropping it," Mike whispered. "Or breaking it."

"I'm not gonna drop it," Micky argued. "Or break it. You're too uptight. Loosen up, man." Mike rolled his eyes and started looking at some of the other jewelry, though Micky could somehow feel he was still watching him. The ring looked beautifully ornate. It had a gold band and a black stone in the center that reminded Micky of black glass. It looked like there were engravings along the entire band, but they were too small to see clearly. The ring itself felt heavy and Micky wondered how anyone could ever wear a piece of jewelry that ornate and that heavy. Before he realized what he was doing, he slipped the ring on his finger.

"What are you doing!?" Mike hissed the very second Micky slipped the ring on.

"See, that's creepy," Micky answered. "How did you even see that? You weren't even looking at me!"

"Take it off, now," Mike said.

"I like it," Micky answered. "It's actually not bad. At first I thought it was big and heavy, but I could see how someone could get used to it."

"Take it off," Mike repeated.

"Ok, ok, buzzkill," Micky said trying to slip the ring off. But it wouldn't budge.

"Micky," Mike warned.

"I'm trying," Micky whispered casting a worried glance at the two crew members who were still enthralled in showing Peter the journal.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked quietly.

"I mean it won't come off!" Micky whispered desperately still trying to pull the ring off his finger.

"You idiot!" Mike whispered and darted around the table. "Only you would put a ring on that's thousands of years old and get it stuck!"

"Hey, I was just trying to have fun," Micky argued as Mike tried to pull the ring off too. It wouldn't come off for him either. It was actually starting to get painful. Like the ring itself was burning into his skin.

"Micky, if this doesn't come off, I'm cutting your finger off," Mike warned.

"Ow, stop!" Micky hissed and yanked his hand out of Mike's.

"Of course it hurts," Mike said exasperatedly. "Your fingers are too big!"

"It burns!" Micky argued. Surprisingly, however, the burning sensation stopped once they stopped trying to take the ring off.

"You have to take that off," Mike said.

"I know I do!" Micky spat. "I'm not stupid."

"You put on a thousand year old ring," Mike pointed out. Micky just glared at him and tried to pull the ring off again. It was pointless. The ring wasn't even spinning around his finger like his other ring did. It was almost as if the ring was fused with his skin, but that was impossible.

"We should get back," John said suddenly. Micky jumped and quickly shoved his hand in his pocket making the split decision not to say anything about the ring for fear of getting in trouble.

"Of course!" Micky said. The entire way back to the table, he felt Mike glaring at him and his stomach churned. Was he really stealing an artifact from a museum? From Davy's grandfather?


	4. Stuck

Author's Note: As always, read and review!

Chapter 4: Stuck

"Micky, hold still!" Mike grunted pulling Micky's hand closer over the sink.

"Stop that!" Micky argued trying to pull his hand back unsuccessfully. "I told you already it burns when you do that!" Mike and Micky had made it back to the mansion without incident and now Mike was trying to put soap and water on his hand to make the ring slide off while putting a stopper in the drain so the ring wouldn't fall down it. It wasn't working; all it did was make his hand slippery. Mike was still able to hold a firm grip on his wrist, however, despite the soapy mess covering his hand.

"We have to figure a way to take this off, Micky," Mike said angrily squeezing even tighter on Micky's wrist..

"Don't you think I know that!?" Micky exclaimed finally able to yank his hand from Mike's grasp.

"Maybe some vaseline or something," Mike said starting to look through the cabinets.

"Mike, if it won't even budge with soap and water, what makes you think vaseline will work?" Micky asked.

"I don't know, Micky, but I have to try something!" Mike said throwing the soap angrily in the sink splashing soapy water everywhere.

"Well, can we take a break from trying?" Micky asked slumping on the toilet and holding his hand in pain. "This really hurts."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you put it on," Mike scolded.

"How in the world was I supposed to know this would happen!?" Micky exclaimed getting a little angrier than he already was.

"That's why you shouldn't have put it on," Mike said. "I told you not to touch it. But did you listen to me?!"

"Mike, please calm down," Micky said.

"Do you realize what you've done!?" Mike exclaimed ignoring Micky's plea. "Do you know what you've roped me into!? How much trouble you're in and how it's going to affect Davy and his grandfather!?"

"No, Mike, why don't you tell me!" Micky roared back and jumped to his feet. Mike was about to say something, but water in the sink suddenly exploded as though a small bomb had gone off under it. The two stared dumbfounded at the sink for a moment as the water drained away through a crack that now appeared at the base of the sink.

"Well, that's just great," Mike muttere. "You broke Mr. Jones' sink."

"I didn't do that!" Micky argued. "I don't even know what happened!"

"What's going on in there?" Davy said suddenly on the other side of the bathroom door. Micky paled dreading Davy finding out what happened.

"Nothing," Micky answered.

"Don't you think we should tell him?" Mike asked.

"Why are you both in there?" Peter asked. "You've been acting strange since the museum."

"Oh alright," Micky said yanking the door open. "Davy, please don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?" Davy asked. "What did you do?"

"Not here; let's talk about this in your room," Micky said looking up and down the hallway fearing that he might see Mr. Jones walking towards them. It was one thing to tell Davy, he was Micky's best friend, but he knew that he couldn't let Mr. Jones find out. Micky led the way to Davy's room and the four of them stared at each other for a moment.

"Ok, you gonna talk?" Davy asked.

"Well, see, I messed up," Micky admitted and showed Davy and Peter his hand with the ring stuck on it.

"What?" Davy asked trying to figure it out. "It's just a ring."

"That looks really old!" Peter said grabbing his hand and looking at the ring.

"It is," Mike said. "Probably a couple thousand years old. It's from the dig."

"My grandfather's dig?" Davy asked.

"Yeah," Micky said. "Two of the crew members let us look at some of the stuff that wasn't on display yet."

"You stole an artifact from my grandfather!?" Davy exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to!" Micky defended. "I just put it on and now it won't come off!"

"Why did you put it on?" Peter asked.

"What do you mean it won't come off?" Davy asked.

"I put it on because I was curious," Micky said. "And stupid. And now it won't come off. Everytime we try, I feel like somehow the ring scalds my skin."

"That doesn't make any sense," Davy said as he pulled Micky's hand out of Peter's. "Let me try."

"Ow!" Micky yelped as Davy pulled on the ring. Micky quickly yanked his hand back. "Stop that! I told you it burns! Why does everyone keep doing that!?"

"Because we have to take the ring off!" Mike argued. "What you did is a crime!"

"I'm well aware of that," Micky grunted.

"We could cut off his finger," Davy suggested narrowing his eyes in anger.

"Hey!" Micky protested putting his hand deeply in his pocket. "Why do you guys keep suggesting that?"

"We can't cut off his finger!" Peter argued.

"He can still play drums without a finger," Davy said.

"It was a joke," Mike said dryly but sighed and sank onto the end of Davy's bed.

"Well, we have to get it off somehow," Davy said.

"We've tried soapy water and it didn't even budge," Mike said. "It won't even spin around on his finger."

"What about vaseline?" Davy asked.

"He won't even let us try," Mike said. "But I doubt it would work anyway. I really don't understand it. His fingers aren't even that big and it should at least be spinning with the soap. I'm wondering if he is onto something when he says it's fused to his finger."

"That's not possible," Davy said.

"I don't know," Peter sitting pulling Micky's hand gently out of Micky's pocket to inspect the ring carefully. "If Micky says its burning his finger whenever someone tries to take it off, maybe it really is fusing to his finger. It wouldn't be the first time we've dealt with something weird. Maybe it's cursed like the monkey's paw was."

"That's just terrific," Davy muttered sinking next to Mike on the bed. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know, Davy," Mike said heavily.

"Well, we have to figure something out," Davy said. "We have to do something. We have to get that ring back to the museum before my grandfather or anyone else finds out."

"We have to figure as much out about this ring as we can," Peter said. "Figuring out how it's cursed is probably the key to figuring out how to get it off."

"This is a giant mess," Davy sighed. "How does this always happen to us?"

"Davy, I'm so sorry," Micky said. "I messed up. I should have listened to Mike. I shouldn't have touched anything. This is all my fault. You and Mike were right. I'm an idiot. A misbehaved, immature, obnoxious child."

"We'll figure this out, Micky," Peter said trying to reassure Micky, but it wasn't helping. Seeing how upset Mike and Davy were bothered him. He'd been so afraid of goofing off and embarrassing Davy at the party, but what he'd really done had been far worse. He felt anger boil inside him again, but not at Davy or Mike. He was angry at himself. He pulled his hand away from Peter and turned to walk out the door not feeling as though he even deserved to be in the same room as his friends at that moment.

"Micky, where are you going?" Peter asked though Micky didn't answer him; he just kept walking until he was outside on a balcony. The night was freezing, but he wasn't really paying attention to that. How could he have really screwed up so badly? Not only could he go to jail for this, but it could seriously impact his friends. Mike knew about it and could very easily be charged with helping him. Who knew the implications this could have on Davy and his grandfather. And what if Peter got roped into this too simply because he was there?

"Micky," Mike said softly behind him startling him. "You know I never said anything like that, right?"

"You didn't have to," Micky answered.

"Well, for your information, I wasn't even thinking it," Mike said. "Neither was Davy. None of us think you're childish or immature or obnoxious. Ok, maybe a little, but honestly I don't think we'd like you if you weren't. We can all be that way a little."

"Mike, you really don't have to try and make me feel better," Micky said. "You're pissed that I didn't listen to you and that I got you guys into this mess. But you don't have to worry about that because I'm not letting you guys go down with me. I did this on my own and I'm going to deal with it on my own."

"No, you're not," Mike said. "I'm not just saying what I think you want to hear to make you feel better. I'm saying that while I am mad you didn't listen to me and this happened, I know you didn't mean for it to. Just like Davy didn't mean to fall for Angelita in Mexico and get himself nearly killed. But what did we do when he did? Did we just back off and let him deal with it on his own? Or did you save the day as "Dolenzio" and end up rescuing the whole town in a shootout?"

"This is different," Micky said.

"I really don't see how," Mike answered. "You've had my butt in the past. You've had Davy's and you've had Peter's. The whole thing with the Devil and the harp..."

"That was mostly you," Micky countered.

"Ok, what about you dressing up as a big-shot movie producer?" Mike said. "Or dressing as a woman so Davy could go out on a date?"

"None of those situations were nearly as bad as this is," Micky argued. "I can't let you guys get involved in this. I can't drag you guys down with me on this one."

"Well, whether you are going to let us or not, we're helping you," Mike said firmly. "We're family, Mick. We aren't going to let you sink here. Besides, it's not entirely your fault."

"Sure it is," Micky said.

"No, I should have done more to stop you," Mike sighed. "You told me how nervous you were about this whole thing from the beginning. I saw how bored you were and I know how you are when you're bored. I should have seen something like this coming."

"Mike, this isn't your fault," Micky argued. "I'm not your responsibility."

"Maybe," Mike sighed leaning against the banister of the balcony next to Micky. "But that doesn't change the fact that I could have done more to stop you. I see you as my little brother. My hyper, trouble-making, funny, sweet, caring, loyal baby brother. And by default, I have to look out for you. But that's all done by choice, Micky. I chose not to walk away from everything when things started looking bad. I could have, you know. I was offered the chance to audition for a big producer to do a country record a few months ago in Nashville, you know. The catch was, it was solo. It would have meant leaving all of you behind. And I couldn't do that. And I'm not now. I'm not turning my back on any of you."

"You really turned that down?" Micky asked surprised.

"Of course I did," Mike answered as though it were a stupid question. "You guys are my best friends. I wouldn't trade any of you for all the fame and glory in the world."

"Mike, if you help me and this goes south, you could end up in jail with me," Micky said.

"Well, I really don't plan on letting it go south, Micky," Mike said.

"What if it does?" Micky asked.

"Stop," Mike said. "We can't think about that too much yet. We do, and we'll dwell on it when we should be focusing on how to help you now. Besides, it's freezing cold out here and I'd like to go back inside."

"I never made you come out here," Micky said.

"No," Mike admitted with a smile. "I came out here because I wanted to. I wanted to make sure you knew that while I might be mad, I'm not mad at you. I still care about you."

"You promise you won't cut my finger off?" Micky smiled. He still felt a tremendous sense of guilt, but somehow he felt better about everything.

"Well, we can't take the hand," Mike retorted as the two of them walked back inside. "Davy's right. You can play the drums without a finger, but not without a hand."


	5. Back Home

Author's Note: Read and review. Thanks!

Chapter 5: Back Home

Once they were back in Malibu, the boys were trying to figure as much out about the ring as they could. They'd only been home for a day, but they all felt there was no real time to relax. Micky thought that they might have been out of the woods, legally at least, figuring that now that they were out of the country, no one could prove he'd stolen it. The only problem was the evidence itself was still stuck on his hand. And Micky knew they still had to do the right thing and return the ring to the museum anyway. Oddly enough, no one had even mentioned that anything was missing yet. Micky knew that with enough time, they would realize an artifact was gone and try and find it. But since a week had passed, could they really rope Mike and Peter into it if Micky ever got caught? Could they really prove Peter and Mike had even been with him when he took it?

Micky wasn't exactly sure how they planned to find any information out about the ring, however. Archaeologists had a hard enough time identifying stuff as it was, and they had years of schooling to help them. The boys had no idea what they were doing. But Peter kept trying to reassure them that if the ring was cursed, they should be able to find some mention of it somewhere. To which Micky always followed with a snide comment about sometime and in someplace. He knew he shouldn't make comments like that, yet he couldn't help but be skeptical. No matter how many times Mike pointed out that they at least knew the era they should be looking in and the approximate location, Micky felt hopeless.

They'd slyly asked the archaeologist and wormed information out of Davy's grandfather about the other items found at the dig site so they could pinpoint down as much as they could. And for the two days that they had to wait before they would set off on the plane back home, Micky made sure to always wear gloves around anyone to cover his hand. When he was around the house, he found some way to hide his hand and the ring from the staff and Davy's grandfather; usually just by shoving his hand in his pocket. Because of that, they had made it to the airport without anyone becoming suspicious of them. Micky had felt nervous walking through the airport for fear someone from customs might search him and find he had an ancient artifact stuck to his finger, but Mike and the others just kept telling him to act naturally and customs would leave them alone. Micky found it silly to act natural, since when he did he usually attracted attention to himself, but he decided to pretend he was sleeping most of the time.

Now they were home with books and newspaper or magazine articles strewn about their living room. Mike and Peter had made the library their first stop after dropping Micky and Davy off at home to get settled in. When Mike and Peter had arrived at home hours later, they had boxes of books that Davy and Micky had helped carry in and set in the living room. They had all fallen asleep in the living room that night buried by books and when they woke up, Peter moved to start making them all breakfast, which of course woke the rest of them up. Mike groaned on the floor and rolled over causing a cascade of books to fall over, right onto Davy who shrieked in surprise and jumped up.

"We're under attack!" Davy shrieked. Micky, who had been a little awake himself from the noise and had seen the whole event, laughed.

"We aren't under attack, Davy," Mike said trying to stifle his own laughter. "I accidentally knocked over this pile of books on you. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Davy said pushing the books off him. "It's not funny, Micky."

"Sure it is," Micky laughed. "You should have seen your face, man!" In response, Davy picked up a pillow and threw it at Micky smacking him squarely in the face.

"Ok, you two," Mike said covering even more laughter. "Knock it off." Peter was biting his bottom lip trying not to laugh as well.

"What are you making, Peter?" Davy asked getting up and walking to the stove.

"Nothing special," Peter answered. "Just eggs. We didn't have much left."

"Eggs work," Davy said moving to set the table, which also meant clearing off some books.

"We have any juice left?" Micky asked waving at the fridge.

"Sure," Peter answered. All four boys jumped as they heard a crashing noise from inside the fridge.

"What the..." Mike started cautiously opening the fridge. When he did, orange juice spilled out of the fridge and onto the floor.

"What happened?" Peter asked. "When I got the eggs out, the juice was at the back of the fridge?"

"The orange juice exploded inside the fridge," Mike said.

"How?" Peter asked.

"Earthquake?" Davy suggested.

"One would expect the milk to have spilled, too," Mike said indicating the intact bottle of milk at the back of the fridge.

"What other explanation is there?" Micky asked.

"The ring," Mike answered staring at Micky's hand.

"What are you talking about?" Micky asked looking at the ring on his hand.

"The sink in Mr. Jones's mansion exploded, too," Mike answered. "You got mad and the water exploded and the sink broke. You asked for juice and this."

"Mike, do you really believe I'm doing this?" Micky asked.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Peter answered. "You cursed yourself into not speaking on accident."

"This is different," Micky said. "Who says this ring is even magical?"

"You did," Davy answered. "You said it was fusing to your hand."

"I said it felt like it was fusing to my hand," Micky answered.

"Well, let's test it," Mike said. "Wish for something."

"What?" Micky asked.

"Wish for something," Peter said.

"I...I don't know what to wish for," Micky said reluctantly. He stared down at the ring and couldn't really believe that this little thing stuck to his hand was doing all this. Then again, his friends had a point about the monkey's paw curse. They'd certainly seen a lot of unexplainable, paranormal things in their lives. Why not a magical ring? If only they could somehow find more information on it, but he wasn't sure when that was going to happen. They had dozens of books with hundreds of pages to sift through. He let out a heavy sigh hoping there had to be an easier way.

Suddenly one of the books towards the bottom of the pile that had fallen onto Davy flew toward Micky and hit him in the stomach. He doubled over a little in pain as the other three jumped in surprise. Mike bent down and picked up the book and looked at it inquisitively. Looking down at the ring stuck to his finger, he thought he saw the black stone shining with a bright light a little. Micky couldn't really deny it much longer. The ring really was magical and Micky really was making things happen. And it really was magically stuck to his hand.

"What did you wish for?" Mike asked.

"I just wished we could find out more about the ring," Micky admitted. "So I guess that means the answer is in that book?"

"Well, let's take a look then," Mike said sitting down at the table and flipping it open. The four boys were quiet while Mike turned several pages in the book. It took him about an hour to flip through the whole book before he closed it with a heavy sigh.

"Well, either the ring picked the wrong book or I'm missing something," Mike said. "There's nothing in there about a cursed ring."

"There has to be something," Peter said. "I doubt the ring picked the wrong book."

"Try again, Micky," Davy said. "Whatever you did before, do it again."

"Ok," Micky said looking down at the ring. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd done before other than wishing for information on the ring. So he tried again, knowing desperately that the only way to get it off was to find out what they could about it. Peter bit his lip nervously as Micky stared at the ring, willing it to help them; hoping to see it shine again and open the book to the page they needed.

"Try harder, Micky," Peter pushed.

"It's not like I know how this thing works!" Micky exclaimed. "I have no idea what I'm doing here!" As soon as he finished speaking, the book opened in front of Mike and the pages fluttered for a few moments before coming to a rest.

"What does it say?" Davy asked peering carefully over Mike's shoulder.

"Not much," Mike answered. "Nothing at all about the ring which is why I looked past it."

"Well, it has to be important," Peter said. "Why else would the ring be showing us this?"

"Well, it talks about an alchemist," Mike said. "The whole chapter is a historical account of legends in Europe from the 600's to the 800's. This section talks about an alchemist who forged stones born from fire. The goal of a lot of alchemists of the time was to find a way to become immortal. They worked to try and create this stone that would give them eternal life. According to this, one alchemist came close in the late 600's, but not quite. He took a stone born from the hottest fire on the planet and cast spells over it."

"You think the ring is this stone born of the hottest fire on earth?" Davy asked.

"It's obsidian," Micky said looking at the ring. "Obsidian is volcanic glass. If lava isn't the hottest fire on the earth, I don't know what is."

"So I guess the ring was made by an alchemist as a way of obtaining immortality," Peter said. "But why is it stuck to Micky's hand?"

"Doesn't say anything else," Mike said.

"Does it give the guys name?" Micky asked. "Maybe we could research the alchemist himself."

"Uh..." Mike said scanning the page again. "Matthew Eames."

"Well, why don't we go to the library and try and find information on him?" Peter suggested.

"He's not exactly an important historical character," Micky pointed out.

"Well, we have to try something," Mike said.

"We can at least find out more information about alchemy," Davy said.

"Ok, you have a point there," Micky sighed. "Let's head to the library and find out what we can either about Matthew Eames or alchemy."

"Who knows, maybe the ring will help us," Peter said with a smile. But Micky just stared down at the ring on his hand. He wasn't sure if he exactly wanted the ring to help them or not. He wasn't sure what the implications were going to be from using the ring, but he had a really bad feeling about it.

* * *

The boys had spent about five hours at the library with nothing to show for it. They hadn't found anything about the alchemist mentioned in the book and had learned nothing new about alchemy itself. Mike's eyes were beginning to sting and he knew the others were starting to get just as worn out as he was. Micky sighed and leaned back in his chair rubbing his forehead above his eyes. Davy looked like he was about to fall asleep on the books and Peter looked like he was struggling just to keep his eyes from watering. Mike sighed after looking at his friends and stood up gathering the books into a pile.

"We aren't going to find anything else today," Mike said. "Why don't we head home? Start again tomorrow."

"But we haven't found anything," Peter protested trying to take the book back Mike was trying to put away.

"And we aren't going to today," Mike said. "We're all tired and worn out."

"I doubt we're even going to find anything tomorrow," Micky said standing up and stretching. "There's nothing in any of these books. There's not going to be anything in any of the other books."

"Maybe if you tried that magic thing again," Davy said.

"I tried several times," Micky said. "It didn't work. There's just nothing here."

"So we just give up?" Davy asked.

"No, we look somewhere else," Mike said.

"Like where?" Peter asked.

"Maybe we could go ask an expert," Mike suggested.

"An expert?" Davy asked. "The archaeologists are back in England and going back to the dig soon. They already told us everything. Won't they get suspicious if we start asking more questions?"

"I was really thinking more about asking a historian," Mike said. "Maybe drop by the museum or one of the colleges or something."

"That could actually work," Peter said. "There's a European historian at UCLA."

"I could give him a call when we get back to the house and see if we can set up an appointment," Mike said.

"Can we get some food first?" Micky asked grumling. "I'm starving." As soon as he spoke a woman sitting nearby them let out a scream of shock. Mike and the others turned to see that a bag of chips sitting on top of her backpack had popped open and sprayed chips everywhere.

"Micky..." Mike said cautiously. "Did you...?"

"I don't know," Micky said nervously.

"Ok, let's get out of here," Mike said abandoning his attempt at putting the books away and grabbing Micky to pull him out of the library. The four of them rushed out of the library as fast as they could and made their way to their car.

"I don't think we should take Micky out in public anymore," Davy said when they got to the car.

"I didn't mean to do that!" Micky exclaimed.

"That's exactly the point, Micky," Mike said. "You could hurt someone when you aren't meaning to because you don't know how to control that thing!"

"I..." Micky started to argue but soon fell silent.

"Micky, we know this is hard, but we can't risk anyone getting hurt," Mike said.

"Or finding out that Micky can perform magic," Davy said. "You never know what they might do to you, Micky."

"I really don't want to find out," Peter agreed. "So I agree with Davy. It's probably best for you to stay home until you can get a handle on that or until we can find out how to take it off."

"Ok," Micky said finally. "You guys are right. Just hurry up and find a way to fix this?"

"I know how to fix it, friend," said a voice nearby with a cheeky English accent that Mike didn't recognize. Instinctively, Mike moved to put himself between Micky and the voice; something inside him told him to flee.

"Who are you?" Mike demanded looking at the man. He looked very garish in a long black coat that flapped in the wind behind him, high heeled boots, long blond spiky hair with dark roots, dark makeup around his eyes, gloves on his hands, an earring in one ear, and a bright red scarf around his neck. He gave Mike the impression of a gothic punk, only much more extreme.

"You haven't heard of me?" the man said looking genuinely hurt.

"Kind of hard to know when you haven't told us who you even are," Mike answered moving even closer to Micky. Behind him, he felt Davy and Peter moving to circle Micky as well. Something about this man made them all feel on edge.

"World famous magician?" the man asked puffing up a little. "The powerful Drake Stone?"

"Sorry, we don't follow magicians," Mike said coldly. "We think they're a little bogus."

"Bogus?" Drake scoffed. "I'm hurt. You can't exactly say magic is bogus when you can make little potato chip bags explode, now can you?"

"We don't really know what you're talking about," Mike said narrowing his eyes.

"Oh really?" Drake said raising an eyebrow.

"Nope," Mike said. "Now, we'd really like to be going..."

"Not so fast," Drake said rushing closer to them. "Cut me some slack here. I just spent 5 boring hours in a boring library waiting for one of you to do something just to be sure you were the ones we were looking for."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked.

"We?" Davy echoed. "I don't see anyone else."

"She's a little busy," Drake answered.

"What do you want?" Mike asked. "Why were you looking for us?"

"I want the ring, stupid," Drake answered. "The one your friend is wearing. The one that helped him perform that little exploding bag trick."

"Sorry," Mike answered. "Not happening."

"I told you, I'm running out of patience," Drake said pulling a gun out of one of his pockets. "Now I really don't like these things and I really don't want to have to resort to using one, but you are really leaving me no choice here."

"Don't!" Micky exclaimed pushing past Mike to stand between them and the gun.

"Micky, don't," Mike whispered. "You can't give him the ring."

"Look, don't shoot them," Micky said over Mike. "I can't give you the ring. It sort of won't come off."

"Won't come off?" Drake asked sounding a little surprised.

"No, it's stuck," Micky said.

"Did you try soap and water?" Drake asked lowering the gun. He was now talking to them as though they were best friends and it sent a small chill down his spine.

"Yes, of course we did," Micky said taking advantage of Drake's lapse.

"Cut it off his hand," said another voice behind Drake. Mike nearly had to do a double take when he realized it was a little girl walking up to them. She was also dressed in all black, but what really got to Mike was that this girl seemed much colder than Drake and she couldn't be more than 13 years old.

"What?" Peter yelped pulling Micky back behind him again.

"We aren't letting you do anything like that," Mike said taking a step forward even though he was very unnerved by how evil this little child seemed.

"I don't like to play games," the girl said. "And I'm much more impatient than my idiot friend here. Drake, just shoot them and be done with it."

"It would be my pleasure," Drake said and raised the gun again. Time moved in slow motion as Mike moved to push Micky and the others out of the way, but he couldn't to them in time. He heard the gun go off with a sickening pop.


	6. Exhausted

Author's Note: Short chapter, but I've had a lot going on. More of me not feeling good, more car problems, more school problems, etc. Most of the week I barely even knew my own name.

Chapter 6: Exhausted

Micky heard the gun go off and instinct took over. He closed his eyes in fear and raised his arms in a vain attempt to stop the bullet. The thought occurred to him that raising his arms would be useless against a bullet speeding towards them; it would just rip right through his arm. But isn't that what everyone did? No, they usually ducked. Or ran. So why did Micky's instinct suddenly think that this would work? He heard a few more gunshots in quick succession, but didn't feel anything. His friends were in front of him, and none of them even fell to the ground; he could still feel them standing in front of him.

"What!?" he heard the punk that was currently shooting at him exclaim.

"Keep shooting!" the little girl exclaimed. Micky opened his eyes and saw that somehow there was a weird force field in front of him and his friends. It was sort of like a giant warriors shield covering all four of them. It wasn't quite invisible, but it was translucent enough for light to pass through it allowing Micky to still see their attackers.

"Run!" Davy yelled.

"In the car!" Peter added.

"Micky, whatever you're doing, don't stop!" Mike exclaimed pulling him by the shirt as the three of them jumped in the car. Completely unharmed. Micky stood stock still. Was he really the one that had made the force field? He stared for a second at the ring on his finger and it was indeed glowing.

"Kill them, idiot!" the girl shrieked.

"Micky!" Peter yelled pulling on Micky's shirt. He kept his arms up but allowed Peter to pull him into the car just as Mike started it. He was starting to feel a little woozy as Mike slammed his foot on the accelerator and backed the car out of their parking spot.

"Shoot them!" the girl screamed again as Mike turned the wheel around. The exit of the parking lot was right behind the pair that were shooting at them, so Micky turned so the force field was in front of them and shielded Mike behind the drivers seat.

"I'm trying!" Drake shouted as he let off a few more rounds. Mike glared at him for a split second, then slammed on the accelerator again. The car sped right towards them and the pair had to jump out of the way to avoid being run over.

"What was that!?" Davy exclaimed as Mike zipped out of the parking lot and down the street. Micky dropped his arms finally and felt as though he'd just run a marathon. He slumped over with exhaustion and was caught by Peter sitting next to him.

"I have no idea," Mike said. "But I'm thinking they'll be back. We have to figure out how to get that ring off Micky's hand."

"Uh, guys!" Peter exclaimed as he struggled a little to support Micky. "Something's wrong with Micky!"

"What do you mean?" Mike asked fearfully. Micky wanted to tell them that he was fine and just needed a good long nap, but he was too weak to speak.

"Here," Davy said climbing out of the front passenger seat into the back seat with Peter and Micky. "Lay him down on your lap. Micky, are you ok?" Micky somehow mustered enough strength for a subtle nod as Davy and Peter laid him down so he was lying on Peter's lap. He closed his eyes and tried to relax a little as he felt Davy feel his forehead.

"Maybe it's because of what he just did?" Mike asked hopefully. "He's just tired. Making that shield or whatever it was drained his energy."

"I hope you're right," Peter said trying to cover the terror in his own voice.

"His temperature is normal," Davy said. "Just rest, Micky. We're almost home." The last words he heard before drifting off to sleep were terror filled.

"Please let him be ok," Peter pled.

* * *

Mike parked the car in the driveway to their house and quickly climbed out. Micky had been passed out since they had left the library, but Davy and Peter had kept checking to make sure his breathing was at least still steady. Davy had felt his pulse periodically, too, and had reassured Mike that it was also remaining steady. Mike's initial reaction to hearing Micky had passed out was one of overwhelming fear, but he knew he had to keep it together for Peter and Davy.

"Shouldn't we get him to a hospital or something?" Peter asked as Mike moved to carry Micky inside.

"And tell them what?" Mike asked a little too flippantly than he meant. "That Micky put on a ring that he stole and now he's doing magic that's draining his energy?"

"Mike, he just wants to help," Davy said.

"I know, but what are doctors really going to be able to do?" Mike asked trying to bring his fear under control before he metaphorically beheaded someone. "His pulse and breathing are fine. He has no temperature. They're going to take one look at him and say he's just exhausted and needs rest. Which is what we can give him in the comfort of his own home as well as keep an eye on him in case psycho and psycho jr come back."

"I guess you're right," Peter said dejectedly lifting Micky so that he hung from Mike and Peter's shoulders.

"If he gets any worse, then we'll take him to the hospital," Mike said. "I promise. But I honestly think that he's just exhausted. Doing that shield thing or whatever must have been really draining."

"You think or you hope?" Davy asked pointedly.

"Davy, just get the door," Mike said not wanting to answer. If he was going to be honest, it realy was more of a hope than a thought, but he couldn't say that to them. Davy just looked at him knowingly for a second before rushing to open the door for them. Once inside, they set Micky down carefully on the couch and Peter positioned a pillow under Micky's head.

"Let's just let him sleep," Mike said pulling a blanket out of the closet to put over him. "We'll keep checking on him to make sure he's still just sleeping, ok."

"What do we do about psycho and psycho jr?" Davy asked.

"We defend ourselves if they come back here," Mike said simply.

"But she was just a little girl," Peter said. "We can't hurt a little girl. It's one thing to knock out a grown man in self defense, but she couldn't have been more than 13 or 14!"

"No, but she sure was trying to kill us," Mike said.

"She also seemed to be the one in charge," Davy added.

"How can that be?" Peter asked.

"I don't know, Peter," Mike said. "I hope we don't ever have to find out, but I'm guessing they aren't going to let this go that easily."

"Maybe we should at least report them to the police," Davy said. "They did shoot at us."

"Something tells me that won't do any good, but we can try," Mike said. "Go ahead and call them, Davy. I don't want us splitting up with them out there."

"Good idea," Davy said and rushed toward the phone. Mike looked carefully at Micky. He looked a little pale, but no worse than he normally looked when he was worn out. A few small beads of sweat were beginning to form on Micky's brow, but when Mike felt his forehead and cheeks, he still felt normal. Just to make sure, Mike also felt Micky's wrist for his pulse and stared at his chest to see it rising and falling in a nice rhythmic pattern.

"You really think he's going to be ok?" Peter asked softly.

"He's strong, Pete," Mike said. "Like I said, he's just exhausted."

"The police are on their way here," Davy said coming back over to them all. They waited for nearly an hour for the police to show up. They then sat out back and told the police what had happened, leaving out the part about the stolen ring of course. They had asked if Micky was alright and they told them Micky was just exhausted which is why they chose to talk out back so as not to wake him. Truthfully though, nothing they did woke Micky. The police said they'd be on the lookout for the pair, but they seemed very skeptical when they told the police what the pair looked like. One cop even looked at them as though they'd gone crazy when Mike had said how young the girl looked. The police did tell them, however, that they would make sure that patrol cars would drive by the house periodically to check on them.

Once the cops left, the boys went back to sitting near Micky so they could keep checking on him periodically. Nothing changed in him, which disappointed Mike a little while at the same time relieving him. He wasn't getting better, but he wasn't getting worse, and that was good. As night fell, Davy made sandwiches for them to eat, though none of them were really that hungry. They did nibble on their sandwiches as Mike told them they needed to eat whether they were hungry or not. Finally, Micky groaned and rolled over.

"Micky?" Peter asked tentatively. Micky groaned a little and slowly opened his eyes. It really was like he was just sleeping.

"What?" Micky groaned with a very heavy yawn.

"Are you ok?" Davy asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Micky asked rubbing his eyes.

"Because you've been zonked out for the past 5 hours," Mike said. "Solidly asleep. We even had conversations near you and you didn't even flinch."

"Oh," Micky said.

"Mike said he thought the ring wore you out," Peter said. "Using the magic in it to create that shield."

"Yeah," Micky said. "It felt like I'd just run a freaking marathon afterwards."

"But are you better now?" Davy asked.

"Yeah," Micky said. "Little groggy, but no more than how I'd feel first thing in the morning."

"You want some food?" Mike asked glad Micky was feeling better.

"Food sounds fantastic!" Micky exclaimed perking up even more. "I'm famished!"

"We still have a few more pieces of bread," Davy laughed. "I can make you a couple of sandwiches." Micky thanked Davy and scarfed down the food as though he hadn't eaten in days. Normally Mike would had said something to make sure he didn't choke on his own food, but he was just glad Micky felt better.

"Maybe you should refrain from using that ring unless you absolutely have to," Mike suggested when Micky had finished.

"Yeah," Micky agreed. "You don't really have to convince me of that. I've never felt like that before and I don't want to ever feel that exhausted again." They spent the next few hours with Micky just to make sure he really was ok, before Mike, Peter, and Davy decided that they wanted to go to bed for the night. Micky said he wasn't tired after sleeping as long as he had and said he was going to just relax quietly in the living room. As Mike lay in bed drifting slowly off to sleep, he could hear the TV downstairs and hoped that Micky was really alright.


	7. Practice

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. Physics is brutal and annoying and headache inducing. But I take my final soon and summer school will be over. For a month until the fall semester starts again and I have Chemistry 2, Calculus 2, an anthropology class and a geology class.

Chapter 7: Practice

Micky felt re-energized again. He slept a little during the night, but mostly stayed up watching TV, not that there had been much on real late at night. He'd ended up mindlessly flipping channels after a while, but soon fell asleep again. When he woke up again, the sun was just coming up and Mike was already in the kitchen making coffee. He nearly jumped up feeling full of energy and walked into the kitchen to join Mike for some breakfast.

"Morning, Mike!" Micky said gleefully.

"I see you're feeling better," Mike grumbled a little.

"I told you I felt fine last night," Micky answered grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl. "I just felt really exhausted. Now I'm fine. Little sleep does wonders."

"That wasn't a little sleep," Mike said pointedly.

"You know what I mean," Micky said. "I know you're worried and everything, but i promise you, I'm fine."

"Yes, I am worried, Micky," Mike said as the two of them sat down at the kitchen table. "We all are. I am not really sure what we're going to do about this whole thing."

"What do you mean?" Micky asked. "I thought we agreed to go down to UCLA."

"Well, yes, but what exactly happens if we run into those two again?" Mike said. "I don't want you using that ring anymore."

"I don't want to use it anymore either," Micky said. "But we have to figure out how to take this ring off. And if they come after us again, we can try normal ways of evading them before resorting to my ring. What I did yesterday was instinctual. I didn't even know I was doing it."

"That's my point," Mike said. "You didn't know what you were doing. What if it happens again."

"If it happens again, it happens again," Micky sighed. "It's not like I was really hurt. Just exhausted. I was thinking last night that maybe if I can figure out how to control this thing better, maybe I won't become as exhausted. I didn't feel anything when I did small stuff, so if I can learn how to use it right, I might be able to avoid the exhaustion next time. And maybe we can use it to our benefit."

"I don't know, Micky," Mike sighed.

"I don't really care what happens to me," Micky said staring at the floating cereal in his bowl. "I can't let something bad happen to you guys because of me."

"And I can't let you hurt yourself trying to save me," Mike countered.

"I guess we're at a stalemate then," Micky sighed again.

"Not really," Mike said. "You have a valid point. I'll make you a deal; if you can figure out how to control that thing without hurting yourself, I'll help you. Davy and Peter can head to UCLA today to try and get answers for us."

"Are you sure it's ok for us to be splitting up like that?" Micky asked.

"I don't see how we have much of a choice," Mike admitted. "You need to figure out how to use that thing so that yesterday doesn't repeat itself and we need to figure out how to get that ring off. I don't want you going out in public and accidentally doing something that we won't be able to explain. We've been lucky on that front so far. Besides, they're after you, not Davy and Peter. Chances are they'll leave Davy and Peter alone and come straight for you."

"I just hope your right," Micky answered with a glance toward the door to his other friend's room. Over the next hour, Davy and Peter woke up and Mike told them what he and Micky had discussed. Peter and Davy seemed hesitant, but more because they didn't want Micky using the ring in case he hurt himself than splitting up. Micky was more worried about them being hurt while he wasn't around to protect them. In the end, however, they all agreed that this plan was their best option; they didn't have any time to waste. Davy and Peter would go to UCLA and leave as quickly as they could and make sure to stay in crowds of people where it was much less likely for them to be attacked. In the meantime, Mike and Micky would stay at the house and try and focus on learning how to use the ring properly in case they needed it.

"Ok, give it a shot," Mike said placing a magazine on the table about 15 minutes after Davy and Peter had left. Micky had said he was going to try and levitate something again like he had with the book the day before. Micky focused intently on the magazine and tried to lift it, but nothing happened. He lifted his hand toward the magazine as though trying to reach for it, but still nothing happened. They kept trying for nearly an hour with nothing to show for it and Micky felt himself begin to get extremely frustrated.

"This isn't working," Micky grunted angrily.

"Just relax and try to focus," Mike said. "What was going through your mind when you did everything else?"

"Not much," Micky said. "I was just wishing for things to happen, and they did. But yesterday when we were attacked, nothing went through my mind. I just raised my arms and it happened."

"Just try again," Mike said. "And try and do the same thing you did with books." Micky still felt irritated, but tried again nonetheless. This time he closed his eyes and imagined the magazine moving. And this time he heard ruffling sounds of paper moving in the wind. When he opened his eyes, he saw the magazine was now on the floor between him and the paper.

"Cool," Micky said. "I did it!"

"Sort of," Mike said moving to pick up the magazine and put it back. "You only managed to move it a few inches."

"I still moved it," Micky argued.

"How do you feel?" Mike asked looking seriously at Micky.

"Fine," Micky answered. He truly did feel fine; no drowsiness or anything out of the ordinary.

"Ok, try again," Mike said. "See if you can move it a little farther this time." Micky closed his eyes again and raised his hand open as if someone were about to hand the magazine to him. He heard the magazine flitter in the wind again and opened his eyes to see it had fallen in the same spot as before.

"Really?" Micky said frustrated. "Its in the same spot?"

"Try again," Mike said putting the magazine back on the table. Mike pushed Micky over and over to keep trying, but each time he made sure to check and make sure Micky was still feeling ok. Each time Micky tried, however, the magazine didn't make it much farther than off the table. After another hour of trying, Micky's frustration was nearing its peak.

"I can't believe this isn't working," Micky grunted a little getting even angrier.

"Just keep trying," Mike sighed. "Rome wasn't built in a day. Unless you're getting tired."

"No, just annoyed," Micky answered.

"You'll get better," Mike offered. "Just keep trying." Micky nodded and went to try again as Mike put the magazine back when he heard a soft chuckle behind him. He whirled around and saw a man standing in their doorway. He was a slightly portly middle-aged man with dark hair and a dark goatee under a bowler hat. He was dressed rather sophisticatedly and carried a long cane with a blue stone at the top.

"Who are you?" Mike demanded moving closer to Micky and standing rather defensively next to him.

"My apologizes," the man said in a thick English accent and a smile that sent chills down Micky's spine. "My name is Max. You left your door unlocked."

"So you just waltz right in?" Micky asked. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"Again, I apologize," Max answered with another smile. "I figured you could use my assistance, but before I introduced myself, I wanted to make sure you really were wearing that ring. Better not to come off as a complete nutter."

"Well, we think you're a nutter anyway," Mike said.

"Yes, I can see how you would think that," Max said looking a little more seriously. "But like I said, I think I can help you."

"Help us?" Micky asked.

"Yes, that ring is stuck on your finger and you want it off," Max said. "Am I right?"

"Let me guess," Mike asked. "You want it?"

"Whether I want it or not, I know how to help you," Max said. "Without killing you like two other people you have met wish to do."

"You know about them?" Micky asked skeptically.

"I know them quite well, actually," Max said.

"How do we know you aren't working with them?" Mike demanded.

"Well, I suppose you don't," Max answered. "But I can assure you that I mean you no harm. I mean, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now."

"That doesn't really ease our minds," Mike said tensing up a little more next to Micky.

"I understand your being hesitant and untrustworthy," Max said. "But do you have much of a choice other than to trust me? I can tell you whatever you want to know about that ring."

"Do you want it?" Mike asked.

"Yes, but only so it doesn't fall into the wrong hands," Max said. "Like the two who tried to shoot you earlier today. I can keep you safe from them until the ring comes off."

"What do you mean "until the ring comes off"?" Micky asked.

"The ring will come off with time," Max answered. "It is a very long story, so why don't you both sit down and I will tell you what you want to know." Mike and Micky exchanged glances with each other. Micky still felt unsure of whether or not to trust this guy. He sounded like he was really only trying to help them, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"We'll stand," Mike said clearly getting the same feeling as Micky.

"Suit yourself," Max said pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. "That ring was forged well over a thousand years ago by an alchemist looking for immortality. At the time, a lot of alchemists were looking for immortality, but none of them found it. The one who made that ring came close. He was able to trap his essence in that ring."

"Essence?" Mike asked.

"It's like a soul, but not quite," Max answered. "A person's essence is very close to a soul and contains most of the same attributes such as their strength and energy, but it does not contain their thoughts or memories or personality. But alchemists are at their core magicians. Sorcerers, wizards, witches. You have many words for those who can perform magic. But I digress. That's how you have been performing magic. You've been tapping into the essence trapped in that ring."

"And you know this how?" Micky asked.

"Because I too am a sorcerer," Max said.

"So this ring is like magic legend or something?" Mike asked.

"Yes and no," Max answered. "I learned of it about a few years after the alchemist died when I was a boy."

"How is that possible?" Micky asked. "That would mean you're nearly a thousand years old and you just said no one was able to figure out the secret to immortality."

"Yes," Max answered. "And no one has. I'm not immortal. I can be killed. Merlin cast a spell on me to keep me from aging until a certain task was accomplished."

"Merlin?!" Micky and Mike repeated a little stunned.

"I see you've heard of him," Max laughed. "I was his apprentice a thousand years ago."

"You were his apprentice?" Micky repeated dumbfounded. Micky's mind raced a little. If this guy was Merlin's apprentice, did that mean he really could be trusted? Maybe the bad feeling Micky got was just that this guy was so old.

"I was," Max answered. "But that was a long time ago."

"Prove it," Mike demanded. "Do something magic."

"I'm afraid I cannot," Max said. "I was attacked about a year ago and was stripped of my magic."

"So that's why you want the ring?" Mike asked. "So you can get your magic back?"

"That would be a benefit, yes," Max answered. "But more-so because I don't want it to fall into the wrong hands."

"Yeah, you said that," Micky said. "What do you know about the two creeps who attacked us?"

"Their names are Drake Stone and Abigail Williams," Max answered. "They were sorcerers, too, but they were followers of Morgana, Merlin's enemy. But I managed to dis-empower them before they could do much harm to anyone. They want the ring back so they can gain their powers back. I cannot let that happen."

"What would they do if they got a hold of this ring?" Micky asked staring at it again. He felt very uneasy knowing that he wore something on his finger that could potentially be dangerous.

"If an evil sorcerer gets his or her hands on that ring, they could do anything they wanted," Max answered. "Like raise an army of the dead in order to terrorize and enslave the living."

"So basically take over the world?" Mike asked.

"Basically," Max smiled.


	8. Answers

Author's Note: Long chapter, but I hope you like. Please review! Reviews make me feel good and keep me going!

Chapter 8: Answers

Peter parked the car in a visitors space outside of UCLA and he and Davy quickly climbed out and started making their way toward the building they needed to speak with the expert Peter had mentioned. Peter had called and scheduled the appointment the day before while Micky was sleeping. The professor on the phone had told them that he wasn't sure how much he'd really be able to help them, but was willing to give it a shot. Peter had taken a picture of the ring while Micky was sleeping so they could show the professor what they were dealing with; it was a lot easier than describing it. As they walked, Peter noticed there was really no one around, which didn't surprise him as it was Sunday.

"Do you really think it was a good idea to leave Micky alone like that?" Davy asked as they made their way across the campus.

"Of course not," Peter answered. "But what choice did we really have? Besides, Mike's with him and I trust that."

"But what if Mike can't protect him?" Davy asked.

"I know Mike can," Peter answered not even entertaining the idea of the alternative. "Mike's got good instincts and he's quick on his feet. If anyone can protect Micky, it's Mike."

"How can you be so positive all the time?" Davy asked partly out of anger and partly out of desperation.

"Because if I don't think positively, I'll go crazy," Peter admitted stopping for a second. "Besides that, I have enough faith in all of you to trust that we'll always be able to have each other's backs." Davy didn't say anything; he just smiled and he and Peter continued toward the professor's office. When they arrived, they knocked on the door and waited. After a minute, they knocked again a little harder. The door creaked open slightly and Peter noticed broken glass on the floor. Peter exchanged a worried glance with Davy and pushed the door open the rest of the way.

"Professor?" Davy asked as they slowly poked their heads in. The room was empty, but there definitely looked like there had been some kind of struggle. A lamp was lying shattered in pieces on the floor and the broken glass Peter had seen was from a vase that appeared to have fallen from a bookshelf. Books themselves had fallen to the ground and a chair in the center of the room had been knocked over.

"What do you think happened here?" Peter asked walking in and slowly looking around.

"I don't know, but I think maybe we should call campus security or something," Davy answered. Before Peter could answer, they heard another crashing noise. Somewhat hesitantly, Peter dashed out of the office and toward the sound of the crash with Davy close behind him. He wasn't sure chasing the noise was such a good idea, but if someone was attacking the professor because they had asked him for help, they owed it to him to try and help him.

Together they rushed down the hall and heard more crashing as they passed a closed classroom. They both skidded to a halt sliding on the floor a little and turned around to head for the classroom. Just before they reached it, the man who had been shooting at them the day before, Drake Stone, flew out of the classroom breaking down the door and landing in a crumpled heap against the other wall. Peter almost didn't want to look inside the room, but felt he had to. If someone was fighting off Drake Stone, didn't that then mean they were allies and could help them? Slowly Peter peeked inside and saw two men standing in the classroom looking outside.

One appeared to be their age and was a little taller than Peter but just as skinny with dark somewhat curly hair. He wore a plaid shirt under a red hoodie and jeans. The other man looked very odd in comparison. He was only a little taller and looked middle aged, but he at least didn't look so skinny. He wore a very heavy, and very old looking, dark trench coat, black fingerless gloves and an equally old looking black fedora covering long dark blonde wavy hair. Under the trench coat he wore a dark gray tuxedo vest, dark pinstripe pants and pointy shoes. Peter saw briefly a ring on the man's finger that glowed much like the one Micky had.

"What the...?" Davy muttered as he looked from the now unconscious Drake Stone and the two men in the room who had seemed to have attacked him.

"Hello," the younger man said. "This may seem a little weird to you, huh?"

"A little," Davy admitted.

"Are you ok?" Peter asked. "We heard crashing noises and the professor's office was trashed."

"Yes," the older man said. "The professor, it seems, was attacked by that man. Luckily we were in the neighborhood and were able to make sure he got to campus security safely."

"So he's ok?" Peter asked.

"Yes," the older man answered. "You should run along now. Campus security should be here soon. We'll stay with him."

"Why did he attack the professor?" Davy asked staring at Drake. "And where's the girl?"

"Girl?" the younger man repeated.

"Yeah," Davy answered. "There was a girl with him before."

"You've met him?" the older man asked walking toward them and gesturing at Drake.

"Yesterday," Peter answered. "He tried to kill us. He was trying to get this ring off our friend."

"Peter!" Davy hissed. Peter guessed he hadn't seen this man's ring glowing like Micky's and hadn't therefore realized these people could actually help them.

"His ring glows like yours did," Peter continued as though Davy hadn't interrupted him.

"Your friend wears the alchemists ring?" the older man asked seriously.

"I guess," Peter answered. "That's why we came here looking for the professor. We want to help our friend and we thought the professor could give us some information on it."

"Peter!" Davy hissed again.

"Davy, you really think these guys launched that guy through a solid door just by normal human forces?" Peter demanded. "They can obviously do magic like that ring and if they're fighting the guy who tried to kill us, does that not make them allies?"

"Not necessarily," Davy answered eyeing the pair. "They could be just as psycho and just want the ring for themselves."

"Do we have any other option than to trust them right now?" Peter asked. "I have a good feeling about this."

"Are you sure that isn't just your optimism?" Davy asked.

"Ok, we should get out of here actually before campus security comes," the younger man said quickly.

"I thought you just said you were going to wait here for them," Davy pointed out.

"And explain what to them exactly?" the older man asked and pointed at Davy, Peter and his young friend in turn. "You are right to be wary of strangers. You are right to follow your instincts. And he is right that we we need to leave. And you need to take us to your friend as soon as possible."

"Why?" Peter asked noting the urgency in the man's voice.

"I'll explain on the way," he answered and turned to walk quickly down the hall. His younger friend offered them a smile before following him. Trusting his instinct, he followed the two but Davy hesitated behind him.

"Are we just going to leave him there?" Davy asked the two magicians.

"Campus security can deal with him," the older man answered as they exited the building. "Where is your car?"

"Over in that parking lot," Peter answered.

"As are we," the older man said. "Shall we?"

"You said you'd explain on the way," Davy said catching up to them. "Start explaining."

"Your friend is in a lot of danger if he really is wearing the alchemists ring that Stone was after," the older man answered.

"Well, yeah," Davy scoffed. "We already told you Drake Stone attacked us yesterday."

"That's not what I mean," the man said. "I mean that ring itself will kill him."

"What are you talking about!?" Peter demanded suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.

"It's all very complicated," the man answered as they reached the parking lot. "But I can also guarantee that Stone isn't the only person who's going to come after him. Your friend shouldn't be alone."

"You think someone else is going to attack him?" Peter asked.

"Very possible," the older man said. "Which is why we need to get to him now. You lead the way and we'll follow." Peter watched him walk toward one of the only other cars in the parking lot, a 1935 Rolls-Royce Phantom. Peter and Davy dashed over to their car and climbed inside. They waited a second before the other two men pulled out ready to follow them.

"You really think we can trust them?" Davy asked sounding skeptical as they rushed back home.

"Yes," Peter answered. "I have a good feeling in my gut. And if this guy says that the ring will kill Micky, then what choice do we really have but to trust him?"

"Unless he's lying to get us to take him to Micky," Davy pointed out. "He did say a lot of other people would be after the ring. What if this is a trap?"

"I doubt that he's lying," Peter said. "I told you, Davy, I trust my instinct on this one. I mean, listen to what your heart is saying. Does it tell you we can trust them or to run away?"

"It says we have to do whatever we can to save Micky," Davy admitted.

"Agreed," Peter said. "And these two might have the answer. We have to let them help." Davy just nodded, finally seeming to relent. They rode the rest of the way in silence; Peter's mind was much too busy with fears of what might happen to Micky.

* * *

Mike stared at the man sitting in their kitchen with the feeling of unease growing in his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure he could trust this man, but he also wasn't sure what choice they had. This man seemed to have a lot of information about the ring and they needed this information. And if this guy was Merlin's apprentice as he claimed to be, then perhaps they really could trust him. Still, something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something saying this man was a liar; a con-man. Something saying they needed to run from this man.

"So how do I get this ring off?" Micky asked.

"It will come off on its own," Max answered.

"How?" Micky asked. "I've been trying to get it off this whole time!"

"It will come off in due time," Max said. "It just has to finish its job."

"It's job?" Mike asked feeling a little uneasy again. "What job is that?"

"It has to restore itself," Max said. "To its original glory. It's working to get back to its full strength. You can help that along by doing exactly what you're doing; using it."

"Using it saps his strength," Mike said. "Yesterday he used it to create a force field to protect us and ended up passing out for hours. And I'm not just talking about a little nap; we could not wake him up."

"It needs to get its energy from somewhere," Max said. "The ring is borrowing his energy to restore itself."

"Borrowing his energy?" Mike echoed with a worried look at Micky and feeling that sense of unease grow even larger. "Won't that kill him?"

"Not if the ring borrows his energy," Max answered. "He'll get his energy back."

"That is what the definition of borrowing is, yes," said a voice behind Mike. He turned around and saw two strange men walk in the back door with Peter and Davy. "But you would be lying to them about the borrowing thing."

"Balthazar!" Max exclaimed getting up from the table.

"Maxim," the man answered. "Now why on earth are you lying to these boys?"

"What's going on here?" Mike asked.

"The professor was attacked," Peter explained. "By that crazy guy with the gun from yesterday. These guys saved him."

"Don't listen to this man," the older man said firmly. "He's a liar."

"How do we know you're not the liar?" Micky asked.

"That's really not important right now," the man answered. "Where's Abigail, Maxim?"

"What makes you think I know?" Max answered. "I was just trying to help these boys with their little problem. Abigail and I have parted ways."

"Yeah, after you stole her magic and nearly killed her right before kidnapping my girlfriend," the younger of the two men snapped.

"You're friends with them?" Micky demanded of Max.

"He was working with them to kill us and take over the world with zombies," the younger boy answered.

"They weren't zombies, Dave," the older man said.

"That's what you just told us would happen if the wrong hands got a hold of that ring," Micky demanded leveling Max with a stare. "You DID lie to us!"

"Well, this has been pleasant, but I really must go," Max said turning to leave.

"I don't think so, Horvath," the older man in the trench coat said and moved to attack Max. However, Max pulled something from his pocket and threw something at them. Mike felt a small explosion go off in front of him that sent him flying backwards a little and landed on the ground. He heard the startled gasps of his friends as they were sent flying with him. Mike grumbled a little and pushed himself up before looking around at his friends. Micky lay next to him trying to push himself up, too. Max was nowhere to be seen.

"What just happened?" the younger man said extricating himself from his entanglement with Peter and Davy on the floor. "How did he do that, Balthazar? I thought I zapped his magic!"

"You did," the older man answered. "But there are ways of using a few spells here and there with the right tools."

"Ok, answers, now," Mike demanded of the two newcomers while helping Micky up. "He said the ring was going to borrow Micky's energy and you said he was lying. He said his name was Max and you called him Maxim. Did he even lie about his name?"

"Well, to be fair, Max is short for Maxim," Micky pointed out.

"Not the point," Mike said.

"Your friend is right," the older man said. "His name is Maxim Horvath. He's always been called Maxim."

"He probably shortened it to try and gain their trust," the younger one said. "Max sounds friendlier."

"He said he was Merlin's apprentice," Micky said.

"He was," the older man answered. "A very, very long time ago."

"Maybe you should start from the beginning," Mike said.

"About a hundred years ago Merlin had three apprentices," the older man answered. "Me, Maxim Horvath and a third woman."

"Veronica," the younger said with a smile.

"Yes, but that's not the point," the older man said. "Horvath allied himself with Morgana, Merlin's arch-enemy and betrayed him. Merlin then cast a spell on us to keep us from aging until we found his heir."

"Me," the younger smiled.

"Dave," the older man said looking at him rather paternally. "Don't interrupt."

"Right," Dave said. "Continue."

"A year ago, Dave and I worked together to stop Horvath and Morgana from ending the world," the man continued. "And Dave was able to strip him of his magic and kill Morgana. Now Horvath wants his magic back so he can finish what Morgana started."

"And he wants to use this ring to do that?" Micky asked staring at the ring.

"Precisely," the older man said.

"You said the ring is going to kill Micky," Davy said.

"What!?" Mike exclaimed a knot forming in his stomach.

"Yes," the older man answered glumly. "Unless we can figure a way to get the ring off him before it does. Horvath said the ring was going to borrow his energy. It's not. It's stealing it. Once the ring has enough energy to return itself to full power, anyone can tap into its energy."

"So that's why he didn't kill you," Mike said. "He needs the ring to steal your energy so he can use it without it killing him."

"What about the other two?" Davy asked. "Drake and the little girl? Where do they fit in?"

"Drake Stone is a stage magician who used his magic to get famous," the older man answered. "He worked with Horvath to help Morgana, but Horvath turned on him stealing his energy to free Abigail Williams. She was trying to help Morgana in Salem about 300 years ago but I was able to trap her inside a doll. Horvath freed her from the doll to get her to help him and then turned on her stealing her energy as well. They want the ring for the same reasons as Horvath."

"But they tried to kill us," Micky said. "Why would they try to kill me when I need to live long enough to restore the ring?"

"They may not know about the ring stealing your energy," the man answered. "Or they may just be planning on using another innocent person."

"But only one of them can use the ring, right?" the younger man asked the elder.

"Do you really peg Drake as being anything other than a follower, Dave?" the older man said. "Abigail is pulling the strings."

"But she's just a kid," Davy said.

"She's a lot smarter than she looks," the older man said.

"Salem?" Peter asked. "There was an Abigail Williams in Salem during the witch trials, but she was one of the victims."

"Clever little ploy, don't you think?" the older man answered. "Get caught doing magic with your friends and blame it on your African nanny Tituba and then sit back and laugh as the town falls into a mass hysteria blaming everyone they can."

"Whoa," Micky breathed. "That changes history a lot."

"How do we get this ring off?" Mike asked changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

"I don't know," the older man answered. "I only heard about what Drake and Abigail were trying to do through rumors and tracked them down. We didn't track them down until today at the college where Drake attacked the teacher."

"So you can't help us?" Mike sighed in frustration.

"I didn't say that," the older man said. "I just said I don't know right now. But we can easily do more research and find out how to get the ring off easier than you can. What I can tell you is we will do everything we can to help your friend. But you are targets now. Horvath, Drake and Abigail will do anything to get that ring. Is there somewhere you can hide where they won't find you?"

"We don't even know how they found us in the first place," Mike said. "We didn't tell anyone about the ring. Micky put it on at a museum and it wouldn't come off. It's technically stolen."

"They probably were able to sense it's energy waves as he used the ring," the man answered.

"You never told us your names," Peter said.

"Balthazar Blake," the older man said. "And this is my apprentice, David Stutler."

"Mike Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones and Peter Tork," Mike introduced. "And I promise you if you do anything to hurt us, I will personally see to it that you regret it. I'm tired of being jerked around."

"So noted," Dave answered. "But we are here to help. We plan on destroying the ring once we get it off."

"Guys," Micky said suddenly looking a little green and dizzy; like he was going to fall over. Mike rushed to catch Micky before he fell. "I don't feel so good."

"Micky, you ok?" Mike asked.

"Bathroom," Micky croaked. "Sick. Toilet." Mike carefully limped with Micky to the bathroom trying desperately to ignore the knot growing in his stomach.


	9. Getting Away

Author's Note: Thank you for all the support and kind reviews. Please keep them up. They keep me inspired and push me to do more. I have thoughts of doing yet a fourth story that will be very M rated, but I don't want to overburden myself so I will have to keep the inspiration bunnies calmed down in my head until I can write it.

Chapter 9: Getting Away

"Better?" Mike asked as Micky leaned against the side of the tub feeling completely exhausted again. Mike handed Micky a dampened washcloth and Micky nodded a little holding it to his face. He still felt exhausted, but after being sick in the toilet, his stomach at least felt a little better.

"I feel really tired again though," Micky mumbled.

"Ok, why don't we get you to back to the living room to lie down again," Mike said moving to help Micky back up. Micky could tell Mike was trying to hide his fear and concern behind a mask of strength. But that wasn't unusual for Mike. Slowly, Micky stood up with Mike's help and started walking out of the bathroom. Peter was sitting at the table with his leg bouncing nervously on the ground and Davy was pacing the room biting his nails. Dave and Balthazar were sitting at the table as well, but they didn't seem as concerned.

"Guys, relax," Micky said. "I'm gonna be fine. Just got a little sick to my stomach."

"I'll get you some water," Peter said jumping up and rushing to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

"He's tired again," Mike said helping Micky sit down on the couch.

"I'll get some blankets and pillows," Davy said rushing to his bedroom.

"Stop making such a fuss over me," Micky mumbled.

"What exactly is happening to him?" Mike demanded of Balthazar. "I get you said it's stealing his energy, but what does that mean? How do we help him?"

"There isn't much you can do to help him right now," Balthazar said.

"How come he got better this morning?" Peter asked.

"Because he slept," Balthazar answered. "Sleeping helps restore his energy on its own, so for now, while he sleeps he'll get better. But as the ring gets stronger, it'll be able to take more and more of his energy at a time and sleeping will only help regain so much. As more and more of his energy is stolen from him, his body will slowly start to shut down."

"How do we stop it?" Mike asked.

"We have to figure out how to take the ring off," Balthazar answered. "And to do that, I need to do some research of my own. I don't know much about the ring other than rumors I heard as a child and what I heard over the last few months. In the meantime, you need to get somewhere safe and hide. I'll leave Dave with you in case they find you. He can keep you all safe, but staying on the move would be best for all of you. Nothing will stop them from getting their hands on your friend and that ring. They'll kill you if they have to."

"I have no idea where we can go to hide," Davy said coming back with pillows and blankets.

"We could stay at a hotel at night and just keep moving throughout the day like he suggested," Peter said.

"We don't have the money for that," Mike pointed out.

"Don't worry about that," Balthazar said. "Dave can take care of that."

"How?" Peter asked. "We wouldn't be ripping people off, would we? That's not fair. We can't do that."

"You have a good conscience," Balthazar smiled. "I like that. But no, they'll get their money. We can make money. As a rule, it's not supposed to be done. Magic isn't supposed to be used for shortcuts. Isn't that right, Dave?" Balthazar gave Dave a look and Dave blushed a little.

"I learned my lesson," Dave answered.

"But this counts as extenuating circumstances," Balthazar continued. "We cannot let them get a hold of that ring and we cannot let them kill any of you."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Mike said. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep Micky safe."

"So am I," Davy said.

"I'll get some things packed for us," Peter said. Micky knew Peter agreed with Davy and Mike; he just couldn't say it because he really would feel terrible if they had to rip someone off to keep Micky safe. But Micky had to put all his trust into these two strangers. After everything they'd been through, he finally had a good feeling about things. He should have trusted his instincts with Maxim, but he was going to trust them now. These two men really were going to try and help them.

"I can help," Micky said trying to stand up; he really could pack his own clothes. Mike carefully but forcefully pushed him back down into a lying position.

"Just get some sleep, Micky," Davy said as he carefully put a pillow under Micky's head and covered him with one of the blankets. "We'll take care of everything. You'll feel better when you wake up. Right?"

"Correct," Balthazar said.

"Don't worry, Micky," Mike said. "Everything's going to be fine." Micky wanted to argue, but couldn't find the strength. Instead he closed his eyes once again and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Peter rushed over to the downstairs bedroom that he shared with Davy and grabbed a suitcase out of the closet. He wasn't sure why he was rushing so quickly, but assumed it was his worry for Micky fueling his adrenaline. Micky had fallen asleep mere seconds after closing his eyes, which Peter assumed was bad. Balthazar had assured them there was nothing to worry about yet and that Micky still had time, but Peter couldn't bear it if he lost his best friend.

Peter grabbed a handful of clothes from his and Davy's closet and shoved them into the suitcase hastily. He guessed part of him hoped that if he could get everything packed faster, they'd be able to find an answer faster. Though he realized now that wouldn't be the case; they'd have to wait on Balthazar to find the answer and he'd already left once Micky was asleep. But Peter still wanted to get things packed and ready as quickly as he could in case someone else decided to attack them. So he went back to the closet for another handful of clothes to shove into the suitcase.

When he had filled up one suitcase full of his clothes from the closet and dresser, he filled another up for Davy and carried them out into the living room. Micky was still passed out on the couch and Mike was sitting on the floor next to him. Mike looked pale and a little green, as though he himself were about to be sick. Davy was nowhere to be seen, but Peter noticed the door to Mike and Micky's room was open now so Peter assumed Davy had gone up there to pack a few things. Dave was sitting nervously at the table fidgeting with a his shirt sleeve.

"You alright?" Peter asked softly sitting on the coffee table next to Mike.

"I just..." Mike started sounding as though he were choking back tears. "I can't believe this is happening. We've gotten ourselves into so many jams before and always found a way out. This time I don't know if we can. We have no idea how to get this off."

"Balthazar is working on that," Peter said trying to comfort Mike even though he felt the exact same way.

"What if he can't?" Mike said. "What if he doesn't find any answers in time?"

"If anyone can find answers, Balthazar can," Dave said from his spot at the table. "I trust him."

"But what if there's nothing to find?" Mike asked.

"We can't think like that," Peter said. "There's gotta be something."

"I should have been more adamant when I told him not to put that ring on," Mike mumbled staring at Micky. "I was so angry at him, but I let him do it."

"Mike, you can't blame yourself for this," Peter said.

"So who do we blame?" Mike asked. "Do we blame Micky for putting the ring on?"

"Of course not," Peter said. "Why do we have to blame anyone? How would you or Micky had known that any of this was going to happen? This isn't anyone's fault, Mike." Mike didn't respond; he just kept staring at Micky. Peter didn't know what else to say to comfort his friend because on some level he feared that they wouldn't find an answer either. On some level he thought that maybe Mike should have pushed Micky not to mess with the ring and on some level he thought that if Micky had behaved himself, this wouldn't be happening.

He shook the thoughts from his head. They really had been in a lot of bad situations before and they had always gotten out of it; they could do it again There really was no one to blame for any of this. He couldn't allow himself to think any other way. He couldn't allow himself to believe for a second that they wouldn't find an answer to all of this; he couldn't let the thought that Micky might die enter his mind. Mike was blaming himself and it made Peter feel a sense of hatred for once in his life. Not towards Mike, but the ring itself. Mike was usually the strong one of the group and now he was faltering.

"I got all the clothes packed," Davy announced coming down the spiral staircase with two other bags. "Micky had barely even unpacked, so it wasn't that hard. We just have to pack our toothbrushes and stuff."

"Should we leave right away?" Mike asked. The question was directed at Dave, but Mike still didn't look away from Micky.

"It wouldn't hurt," Dave answered.

"I'll get the brushes then," Davy muttered. Davy's voice gave away the feeling of anger he was trying to hide. Peter knew Davy well enough to know that he couldn't be mad at either Micky or Mike either, but more at the situation and those out to cause them harm. Because Davy got angry rather easily at times, Peter knew he'd have to be careful and keep an eye on Davy, too. If he got angry at Drake, Abigail, or Maxim Horvath, Davy could easily get himself into trouble trying to square off with them.

"Thanks, Davy," Peter said. "I'll get the bags loaded in the car." Peter hesitated for a moment looking at Mike and wondering if Mike would be ok through any of this. Peter really wanted to say something; to convince Mike to stop blaming himself. It was the only reason Mike was beginning to crack and Peter should have been able to do something to pull Mike out, but he was at a loss for words. The only thing Peter could do for now was keep faith for the rest of them even though Mike and Davy seemed to be quickly losing it.

Dave helped Peter carry the bags out to the car and load them in the back. Peter put the top up on the car to keep the wind away from Micky so as not to wake him when Davy came out with another bag full of their toiletries, mostly Davy's hairspray and combs. Peter smiled as he thought of the way Micky would tease Davy if he saw how full the bag was. He could almost hear Micky saying something like "Oh, yes, because we still have to look beautiful while we're in hiding." And he could see the smile that would have crossed Mike's face at the same time Davy would shoot Micky a scowl. For a moment, Peter thought about saying it himself just to cut the tension, but Davy had already gone back inside. So instead Peter just followed him.

"Peter, help me carry Micky out to the car?" Mike asked as Davy started rummaging through the fridge.

"Sure," Peter answered looking questioningly at Davy.

"I suggested we pack some food because I don't want to stop if we can avoid it and I want to get as far away from Malibu as we can for now," Mike answered as he and Peter lifted Micky off the couch. Dave quickly grabbed the blankets and the pillows off the couch and followed Mike and Peter out to the car. Peter had left the car door open and the two carefully set Micky inside just as Dave handed them pillows to place under Micky's head to keep him comfortable for the rest of the ride. Mike took the keys out and handed them to Peter.

"Should we tell the neighbors we'll be gone for awhile?" Davy asked coming out with a bag of food.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dave started. "We don't want anyone following us."

"Go tell Milly," Mike said ignoring Dave. "She'll worry about us if we don't. Just don't tell her why or where we're going."

"Um..." Dave started.

"We owe it to her," Mike said. "She's kind of like a distant mother to us. It's not going to hurt anything to just say we're leaving for a vacation and we'll be back later. We aren't telling her where we're going."

"Besides, our car is very noticeable," Peter argued leaning in to put the key in the ignition and start the car. "If they're going to follow us, it won't be that hard."

"Oh, I had already planned on changing that," Dave said putting one hand on the hood of the car. "Just hope I don't turn it into a beater this time."

"Beater?" Davy asked cocking an eyebrow.

"First time I ever transformed a car, I accidently changed it into a beater," Dave answered laughing slightly. "We were chasing Horvath and I meant to change his car into a beater."

"You're going to change our car?" Mike asked.

"Well, yeah," Dave answered as slowly the car started turning black in a circle around Dave's hand. "Peter's right; this thing will attract too much attention. I can always change it back later, but it's better to change it now so as not to draw attention to us."

"As long as you can change it back," Mike said with a heavy sigh. "Micky doesn't like anyone messing with the car." Davy shrugged and jogged off towards Milly's house up the street. Peter stayed next to the car and watched in astonishment as the car transformed into a simple black van. Peter peered inside to find that the back seat Micky had been lying on had changed into a small mattress. There were only two seats now: one driver and one passenger.

"I figured you wanted to sit next to him anyway," Dave said as Peter gave him a quizzical look. Mike didn't say anything as he climbed in and took a spot next to the mattress and Micky's head. Dave climbed in the passenger seat, while Peter waited for Davy to get back before climbing in the driver's seat and pulling out of the driveway.


	10. Not So Safe Haven

Author's Note: Bear with me on the time in between postings, everyone, I am now working on four fanfics at once here. Hope you like it!

Chapter 10: Not So Safe Haven

Fear coursed through every nook and cranny of Mike's body as he sat in the back of their car turned van. Peter drove a little fast at first, but had slowed down once Dave had pointed out that they shouldn't draw attention to themselves. Davy sat next to Mike staring at Micky with his chin resting on his knees. Davy seemed to be just as afraid of Micky not being able to pull out of this as Mike was. The difference was that Mike still had to lead the group; he had to stay strong for all of them. Back at the beach house, he felt Peter start shouldering some of the responsibility and pushing aside his own fears so that Mike could have a moment or two of vulnerability, but he couldn't keep doing that to Peter. Mike rested his head against the side of the van and took several deep breaths to try and replenish his strength so he'd be ready to do what needed to be done once they got where they were going.

After they'd been driving for several hours and stopping only once for gas, Peter finally pulled into a motel parking lot. The motel looked a little run down, but at least it would be cheap. Not that they could afford any hotel room. But Dave had said he could arrange for them to be able to afford it. Sure enough, when they pulled in, Dave pulled out some paper he'd gotten at the gas station when he'd gone in to pay for their gas and folded it up. He pressed his hands together over the paper and Mike noticed a while light emanate from between his hands. When he pulled his hands apart, the pieces of paper had transformed into 50 dollar bills.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked.

"Magic, Peter," Davy mumbled.

"It's ok," Dave smiled wide. "Magic is like science. All you have to do is manipulate the molecules."

"So that's real money?" Peter asked. "Not fake money?"

"No, it's real," Dave answered. "Don't worry. No one is going to commit any crimes here and we aren't going to rip anyone off. All I did was manipulate the molecules of the paper so that they rearranged to form the molecules of money. That and I happen to know the algorithm for putting serial numbers on the money...don't ask how. But it's all legit."

"Good," Peter said sounding relieved.

"Alright, stay here," Dave said getting out of the car.

"Wait," Mike said gathering up all of his strength. "I'm going with you. Lock the doors, Peter." Peter nodded and locked all the doors as Mike and Dave walked toward the office. When they walked inside there was no one behind the counter. They stood there for a minute before someone finally walked behind the counter.

"Help you?" the man asked lazily.

"Yes, I'd like a room please," Mike said. "5 beds if possible."

"5?" the man shrugged. "We ain't got a room with 5 beds."

"What do you have?" Mike asked impatiently.

"We got two rooms with two beds each," the man said. "And I can get ya'll a cot."

"How much is that?" Dave asked.

"Bout hundred bucks for the night," the man said. "Each."

"Each!?" Mike echoed in shock. This wasn't exactly an upscale motel.

"It's slow season," the man answered lazily. "Rates go up during slow season."

"Fine," Dave said handing the man the money that had previously just been a piece of paper. Dave signed a form and waited for the lazy employee to give them two keys.

"Are the rooms at least next to each other?" Mike asked when the man came back.

"Yeah," the man answered. "211 and 212."

"Second floor," Mike moaned. "Great."

"It's all we got," the man countered.

"I thought this was your slow season," Mike said.

"It is," the man answered. "Those are the only two clean rooms that are available. Take it or leave it, buddy. 'Less you want a dirty room or one of the ones we had to fumigate this morning."

"Oh that's lovely," Mike moaned shuddering at the thought of why they had to fumigate.

"It's fine," Dave said. "Thank you."

"You realize we gotta carry Micky upstairs now, right?" Mike asked on the way back out to the car.

"Yeah," Dave answered. "But what other choice do we have?"

"I'm just annoyed," Mike said.

"I know you are," Dave answered. "But Balthazar will find a way to fix this. I know he will."

"If there is a way to fix this," Mike answered.

"You gotta stop being so negative," Dave said. "I thought that way once. I was pretty hopeless. Kept telling myself that I wasn't destined to be this big powerful sorcerer. That I couldn't defeat Morgana; I wasn't strong enough. But in the end, I was. Thinking negatively will get you nowhere."

"It's not thinking negatively," Mike argued opening the door to the car turned van. "It's thinking realistically."

"Whatever you say man," Dave said.

"Alright, Peter, we had to get two rooms," Mike said. "Help me carry Micky to one of them. It'll be hard since it's upstairs."

"Sure," Peter nodded coming around the back to help Mike hoist Micky between them. They made it to the bottom of the stairs with Davy leading the way for them and paused for a moment to figure out how they were going to carry Micky up.

"One step at a time," Mike said. Peter nodded and they slowly made it up the stairs without injuring themselves or Micky. Davy opened the door to the first room and they carefully lay Micky down on the bed. It was starting to get dark out and Mike was starting to get a little tired from the drive so he relaxed in the chair next to Micky's bed.

"I'll go make sure the other room has the cot in it," Dave said.

"We have to split up?" Davy asked.

"They didn't have a room with 5 beds," Mike said.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Davy said. "I don't want to leave Micky."

"No, Davy," Mike said. "Don't sleep on the floor. Micky wouldn't want any of us to do that, and you know it. We'll all need some decent sleep over the next few days. For now, lets get some food and then go to bed. We'll hit the road again in the morning."

"How far are we going to go?" Peter asked.

"As far as we need to in order to keep Micky safe," Mike answered.

"And we're sure that Balthazar will be able to find us once he's found the solution to all this?" Davy asked.

"If he finds one," Mike muttered. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Peter shooting him a look.

"Yeah," Dave said. "I'm his apprentice, so he'll be able to find me wherever I am. So as long as I stay with you, he'll find us. And we will fix this."

"I'm going to order some pizza," Mike said. "Do you still have some of that money?"

"Yeah," Dave said handing him another bill.

"Mike crossed over to the phone and thumbed through the phone book next to it until he found a pizza delivery place.

"Might want to get some extra," Dave said. "Micky'll probably be really hungry when he wakes up. Eating can help replenish his energy some, too."

"Great," Mike said dialing the number he found.

"I'm gonna check on that cot," Dave said before ducking out of the room. Peter and Davy each took a seat on the second bed in the room watching over Micky. "Stay here."

"Is this for delivery or takeout?" the man on the phone answered at the end of his greeting.

"Delivery," Mike said giving the address of the hotel and room number. "Two large pizzas. One double pepperoni and one cheese."

"Cheese?" Davy asked.

"I don't know what Dave likes," Mike said. "And cheese is a safe option."

"I like cheese," Peter said.

"How are you paying today?" the man said after adding the total.

"Cash," Mike said looking at the cash in his hand. Like Peter, Mike felt bad for paying for things with money that wasn't real. It looked real enough in his hands, but even still, they didn't earn it and that alone made it fake. As the man on the other end of the phone told him what the total would be, Mike hung up the phone and looked at Micky still lying on the bed asleep. Sweat had formed on his forehead, but other than that he looked peaceful. Just looking at Micky made Mike feel slightly less guilty at using this money. They had to do whatever they could to help Micky and they weren't hurting anyone.

Mike crossed over to Micky and sat on the edge of the bed next to him just to look for a moment. It killed Mike how peaceful Micky looked; just like he was sleeping normally. Sure, he was sleeping, but it was more than that. Mike looked down at the ring on his friend's hand and wished desperately that he could just take it off. Davy's joking suggestion of just cutting Micky's finger off suddenly seemed a lot less like a joke now. If this thing really was going to kill Micky, maybe it would be better to do it. Better to lose a finger than his life. Mike immediately shook the thought from his mind; he could never do anything like that.

"He looks normal," Davy muttered. "Like nothing's wrong. It's creepy."

"You want him to look sick?" Peter asked.

"Of course not," Davy said. "I just...I don't know."

"I know what you mean, Davy," Mike said. "I don't really like it either, but at least he's not suffering." They sat there in silence for a few minutes before someone knocked on the door. Mike got up to answer assuming it was either the pizza guy or the hotel attendant. When he opened the door however, he was face to face with the muzzle of a gun.

"Hello, mate, someone order a pizza?" Drake Stone sneered just before Mike heard the explosion of the gun as the bullet left the chamber. Mike ducked out of the way as quickly as he could, but in the back of his mind he realized Drake had shot at him at nearly point blank range. He hit the ground expecting to suddenly feel enormous amounts of pain, but he felt nothing. The only sensation he had was a ringing in his ears. A very loud ringing. Mike felt Davy kneel down next to him and tug on his arm to try and pull him up. Mike pulled himself together and realized somehow he wasn't hurt. Quickly allowing Davy to help him up, he took in the situation.

Peter was struggling with trying to get Micky off the bed, but couldn't support him alone. Outside the door to the room, Dave was throwing what looked like balls of fire down the hallway of the hotel. Miky turned to instruct Davy to help Peter, but realized as soon as he tried to speak, he could still only hear the ringing in his ears. Davy seemed hesitant, but looked Mike over quickly, obviously looking for a wound of some sort, before rushing to help Peter carry Micky. Mike ran to the door to see where Drake Stone had gone and to look for the little girl. Dave was holding a fireball in his hand standing guard in front of the door. Mike was able to read Dave's lips enough to know that Drake Stone had ducked down another hallway and was hiding. Dave was instructing Peter and Davy to get Micky to the van. The little girl was nowhere to be seen.

So Mike led the way towards the van through the back exit hoping that Dave could make sure their path behind them stayed clear. They had to climb down the stairs, so their progress was slow. Adding to their slow progress, Davy was much shorter than Micky so the movement itself was awkward. When Mike turned he saw Dave covering them from behind and randomly throwing more balls of fire towards the hallway Mike assumed Drake had ducked down in the hopes he'd stay hidden. Mike could still only hear the ringing in his ears, but he didn't need to hear to see that Abigail was hiding up ahead of them near the van, not expecting them to come out the back. Mike held his hand out to signal for them to stop and wait. Abigail had her back turned to them, so didn't see them approach. Mike lunged at her and knocked her to the floor, also knocking a very long looking knife from her hands.

Sounds were starting to come back to him as Drake Stone ran up behind him and he heard Davy shouting behind him. He turned in time to see Drake point the gun at him again, but before he could fire this time, Dave threw another ball of fire at him. It hit Drake in the center of his chest and sent him flying backwards. The scarf around his neck caught fire and he squirmed to try and put it out. He could faintly hear Dave yelling at Peter and Davy to run toward the van as he gathered up another ball of fire in his hands. Abigail however, took this opportunity of distraction to grab another, smaller knife out of her pocket. Mike jumped off her, but not quickly enough to completely avoid being sliced by the sharp blade. He felt it cut into his stomach, but didn't feel the pain immediately.

Davy and Peter had made it to the van and he could hear their muffled cries and they screamed his name in fear and panic. In the next second, Abigail was blasted by another ball of fire hurled by Dave and Peter let go of Micky to rush toward Mike. Davy was barely able to pull Micky into the van as Peter grabbed Mike and pulled him towards it. Fear filled his eyes as he looked at Mike's stomach. Mike tried to protest saying that he needed to help Davy with Micky, but behind him, Dave also pushed him toward the van. As they all climbed in, Davy was already in the driver's seat getting the van started. Once he was satisfied they were all inside, Davy floored it and the van sped off.

"Mike?" Peter asked, though Mike could barely make it out over the ringing still in his ears. "Are you ok?"

"I can't hear you," Mike said. "All I hear is this loud ringing."

"Well, yeah," Peter said. "A gun went off in your face! But I meant the cut!"

"It doesn't even hurt," Mike said looking down at his stomach. As he saw the blood staining his shirt and pants, however, the pain suddenly hit him. He hissed in pain and clenched his fists together. Dave quickly lifted up Mike's shirt to inspect the wound.

"It doesn't look that deep," Dave said grabbing a towel from out of nowhere and pressing it into the cut on Mike's stomach. Mike hissed in pain again and threw his head back. "Keep pressure on that, Peter. I'm gonna make sure they don't follow us this time." Mike tried to ignore the pain as Davy drove furiously.


	11. Healing Touch

Author's Note: As always, read and review! Pretty please!

Chapter 11: Magical Touch

Peter's stomach churned as he saw the amount of blood on his best friends stomach. Dave had quickly taken action while Peter froze, unsure of what to do. When Dave had told Peter to put pressure on the wound, Peter quickly complied. He knelt next to Mike and used both hands to push the cloth into Mike's stomach. He felt sick to his stomach as he felt the cloth fill with Mike's blood; his hands immediately became wet with the warm blood. He released his grip when Mike hissed in pain again hating himself for hurting his friend.

"I'm so sorry, Mike," Peter said.

"Peter, you have to keep the pressure," Dave said looking out the window of the back of the van.

"But it hurts him!" Peter argued.

"I know it does," Dave answered. "But you have to keep the pressure on the wound. If you don't, he could bleed out."

"I thought you said it wasn't that deep!" Davy protested from the drivers seat.

"It isn't," Dave answered coming back over to help Peter. "But we still have to stop the bleeding."

"Peter," Mike breathed heavily. "Go ahead." Peter bit his bottom lip and pushed hard again. He could tell Mike was in pain no matter how much he tried to hide it.

"What now?" Davy asked after a moment.

"Now we go hide somewhere else," Dave said.

"And what if they follow us again?" Davy asked.

"No one's following us," Dave said. "I looked out the window behind us. There's no one there."

"I checked on the way up here," Peter said. "No one was following us here either. So how did they find us in the first place?"

"I don't know," Dave said.

"Pizza," Mike muttered starting to develop a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Mike, how could they have known we were going to order pizza?" Davy asked.

"They probably didn't," Dave answered. "They probably followed the magic trail the car is leaving and when the pizza guy pulled into the lot asked him where it was being delivered. I saw the car in the parking lot."

"Is the pizza guy ok?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Dave answered. "I checked on him after coming out of the hotel office. He was a little shaken up, but otherwise ok. That's when I ran up the stairs, but I was too late."

"No, you weren't," Peter said. "He shot at Mike point blank. If you hadn't attacked him the moment you did, Mike would be dead."

"I should have stayed with you," Dave said. "I'm sorry. We would have been able to make a clean escape if I'd stayed."

"I don't think so, Dave," Davy said. "You saw it coming because you were outside and saw the pizza delivery guy. If you'd stayed inside, none of us would have seen it and Mike would have died. Don't beat yourself up. Peter's right. You saved Mike. You saved us all."

"Dave, isn't there something you can do?" Peter asked feeling the blood continue to soak his hands. "I mean, you're a sorcerer, right? Can't you heal him?"

"I don't know how," Dave answered. "There's probably a spell in my Incantus, but I'd have to look it up and I can't do that right now. I have to try and mask the magic trail we're leaving. I didn't realize they could follow it before."

"Incantus?" Davy asked.

"Book of spells, basically," Dave answered. "Look, I'm still only a beginner, here. I only learned I was a sorcerer a year ago."

"Peter," Mike said. "It's ok; just focus on Micky."

"Where exactly should I be driving to?" Davy asked.

"I think they might be incapacitated for a while, but we do still have Horvath to worry about," Dave answered. "We need a place away from people in case they attack again. I don't want anyone else getting caught in the crossfire."

"I think I have an idea," Davy answered. "It's more of a rest stop with a cheap motel, but it's not that populated. It's about an hour from here."

"Go," Dave said. "I'll work on hiding our trail. Peter, keep putting pressure on Mike." Peter nodded and forced himself to look into his Mike's eyes. He saw the light there, but also saw a great amount of pain behind them. Peter felt a small tear escape and felt terrible. He looked away from Mike and tried not to think about what he was currently doing.

"Pete," Mike said softly obviously having seen the tear. "Don't worry about me, ok. I'll be fine. You just keep doing what you're doing."

"I'm so sorry, Mike," Peter said.

"Don't, Pete," Mike said. "Just don't. I can't hear you very well, but I don't want you saying that either way. This is in no way anyone's fault."

"Mike, I just..." Peter started.

"Stop," Mike said. "How's Micky?"

"Still sleeping," Peter answered. Peter wanted to say more, but knew Mike would only argue with him more. They drove the rest of the way to the beat up motel in silence. When they arrived, Dave ran in to pay for the room for them, insisting this time they all stay in the same room. Peter helped Mike limp into the room and laid him down on one bed while Dave and Davy carried in Micky, lying him down on the second bed. Peter immediately rushed to close all the blinds in the room blocking anyone from being able to see inside.

"What do we do now?" Davy asked.

"I need to look through my Incantus for a spell to help Mike," Dave said pulling a very small book out of his pocket.

"What about food?" Peter asked.

"You're really thinking about food right now?" Davy asked. "That's the furthest thing from my mind right now."

"No," Peter said. "I'm not really hungry anymore, but Micky will be when he wakes up. Isn't that what Dave said?"

"Yes," Dave said. "It will definitely help him regain his energy."

"So how do we get food?" Peter said. "I think ordering pizza again would be a bad idea."

"Well, this is a rest stop," Davy said. "I can run across the street to the cafe and get some take-out."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Peter said.

"It's just across the street, Peter," Davy said. "I'll be fine. We need food and Dave needs to look through his spell book thing and you should stay here in case Dave needs you for something. I'll be there and back as fast as possible. I promise."

"Well, then Dave should go with you," Peter said. He couldn't believe he was saying this, but he couldn't afford to have one more friend go down. He'd be devastated. "Dave can protect you. And since you'll be right back, Mike can wait. He's not going to bleed out in the next few minutes. I think I actually got the bleeding stopped in the car."

"What about you?" Davy argued. "You'd be a sitting duck."

"We're locked in a hotel room," Peter answered. "Dave has the key. I won't open the door for anyone. No one can get in here. We'll be fine. Just hurry and go." Davy looked to Dave for support, but Dave looked as though he were on Peter's side.

"Don't look out the window," Dave said putting the book back in his pocket. "Start working on cleaning the wound with soap and water from the bathroom; just in case I can't find anything in my Incantus. We'll be back as soon as we can." Peter nodded and locked the door behind a still reluctant Davy before dashing off to the bathroom to find something to clean Mike's wound with. He quickly came back with a damp washcloth and sat on the edge of the bed next to Mike.

"It'll be ok, Mike," Peter said as he lifted up Mike's shirt. Mike winced in pain at the movement of the fabric against the wound. Peter carefully wiped the area around the wound first and felt bad when Mike jerked in pain. As Peter moved to clean the actual wound itself, he hesitated. He knew that if Mike was in pain just cleaning around it, he couldn't imagine how much pain he'd be in once Peter touched the wound itself. Before he could do anything, Micky moaned a little from the other bed as he woke up.

"What's going on?" Micky asked sitting up and blinking a lot.

"Micky!" Peter said running over to hug him. "You're ok!"

"Yeah," Micky answered. "What happened? Where are we?"

"We had to run and hide," Peter answered. "We're at a motel. I don't really know where. Davy drove. He went to get you some food. He'll be back in a little bit."

"What happened to Mike!?" Micky exclaimed jumping out of bed and rushing over to Mike.

"We were attacked," Peter said. "We were at another hotel already but had to leave. Abigail got him with a knife."

"Micky," Mike breathed. "You ok?"

"Yeah," Micky answered quickly. "What about you!?"

"What?" Mike asked.

"He can't hear that well right now," Peter said. "You'll have to speak slowly and clearly for a while."

"Why?" Micky asked fearfully.

"We got shot at," Peter answered. "The gun went off right in Mike's face, so it messed up his hearing a little bit. Dave is going to look for a spell to heal Mike when he and Davy get back."

"He got shot in the face?" Micky asked breathlessly. "And I slept through all this!?"

"It's not like you're just taking a cat nap, Micky," Peter pointed out. "And he would have been shot in the face had Dave not saved him. He got there just as the gun went off and knocked Drake over messing up his aim. The bullet went right by Mike's head instead of through it."

"Thank God," Micky breathed.

"I'll be ok," Mike said. "Just relax, guys."

"I have to finish this," Peter said sitting back down next to Mike with the washcloth. He braced himself to hear Mike wince in pain as he pushed the washcloth into the gash on his stomach to clean it. Micky sat on the other side of the bed and held Mike's hand in his as Mike stiffened and hissed in pain.

"It's ok, Mike," Micky said softly. Peter saw Mike squeeze Micky's hand as Peter worked as quickly but gently as he could to clean the blood away from the wound. "Just breathe." After a few minutes, Peter was satisfied with his work and placed a clean washcloth over the wound to catch the new blood coming out. The blood had slowed, but it was still coming out of the wound. They had to figure out how to close it. Soon after Peter had finished, Peter heard the key in the door. He knew it could really only be Dave and Davy, but he stood defensively in front of Mike just in case.

"Micky!" Davy exclaimed throwing the bags of food on the bed and running up to hug him when they walked in. "You're awake!"

"Yes," Micky answered with a laugh. "I'm fine, guys. Stop acting like I'm going to die every time I go to sleep."

"Well, seeing as how that stupid ring is stealing your energy and thereby killing you..." Peter trailed off unable to finish.

"Yeah, but Balthazar said he was going to figure out how to get this ring off," Micky said.

"We're hoping," Davy said. "We bought you a few cheeseburgers, Micky."

"Thanks," Micky answered grabbing the bag off the bed and opening it. Dave sat in one of the chairs at the table in the room and pulled the small little book out of his pocket. He grabbed it as though he were going to open it, but instead it just got bigger, as though the book itself was folded and he was unfolding it. He did this several times until the little pocket-sized book looked more like a tome.

"Wow," Peter said admiring it. "That's amazing!"

"Makes it easier to carry around," Dave laughed as he started to flip through the pages. "I know there has to be something in here about healing. I just have to find it." Micky tore into the cheeseburgers Davy had gotten for him, but stared at Mike the whole time he was eating. Davy sat next to Micky as they all waited worriedly for Dave to find a spell. It took nearly half an hour, but finally he seemed to find something. "I think I got something!"

"What?" Davy asked excitedly.

"I don't know if this will work," Dave answered. "But I can at least give it a try."

"By all means," Peter said moving away from Mike to give Dave enough room. Dave sat where Peter had been sitting and held his hand over Mike's stomach. For the first few moments nothing happened, but then Mike suddenly gasped in pain and arched his whole body.

"What did you do!?" Micky demanded jumping up and rushing to the other side of the bed to comfort Mike. "I thought you were going to make things better! I thought you were going to heal him!"

"It's supposed to heal him!" Dave said as he yanked his hands back and stopped the spell. "I don't understand why that didn't work!"

"Micky, it's not his fault," Davy said. "He's trying."

"I know," Micky answered. "I just...I'm worried. I'm sorry, Dave."

"Let me look more," Dave said going back to the book on the table.

"It's fine," Mike breathed sounding pained. "Don't worry about this so much. It'll heal."

"It's not fine, Mike," Micky said. "You're hurt pretty bad. He'll figure something else out."

"I think I know what went wrong," Dave said moving back to sit on the edge of the bed next to Mike. "Let me try again."

"You sure?" Micky asked anxiously.

"Pretty sure," Dave muttered. "I'm still only learning. Thing is, I think I did it right. I think it's supposed to hurt because essentially the spell is stitching the wound closed and that normally hurts anyway. I'm really sorry, but I think this will work."

"Ok, I guess that makes sense," Peter said. "Hang on, maybe he should bite down on something though." Peter dashed off to the bathroom to grab yet another washcloth and brought it back out to Mike. He sat next to Mike's head and put it in his mouth to bite down. Mike nodded that he was ready and Micky grabbed Mike's hand while Peter gripped the other. Davy stood nervously in the corner pacing a little looking very uncomfortable. They all held their breath as Dave tried the spell again. It took a few moments before Mike jerked in pain again. Peter felt Mike's hand squeeze his tightly and heard Mike gasp in pain behind the washcloth. Peter felt like crying again hearing his friend in so much pain and he wanted desperately to shout at Dave to stop, but knew that Dave had to do this. It would be better in the long run.


	12. Desperate Measures

Author's Note: Thanks so much to Midgie for helping me with this! She literally helped me write a small scene in here!

Chapter 12: Desperate Measures

Micky felt horrible. Mike had been hurt trying to protect him. He glanced down at the wound on Mike's stomach and tried to ignore the pain now shooting through his hand as Mike squeezed it. He started feeling a little better about everything when he saw the wound on Mike's stomach slowly start to close as if being stitched together by an invisible needle. Micky only wished it would go faster. He could almost feel the pain Mike was in as he screamed behind the washcloth Peter had put in his mouth to bite on.

"Is it working?" Davy asked nervously.

"It looks like it is," Peter said glancing down at the wound.

"Just a little more, Mike," Micky said hoping Mike could hear him. "Hang in there."

"Done," Dave said finally. Micky looked down and saw the wound had completely closed, but there was still a little blood there. Peter quickly grabbed the cloth he'd used before to clean up Mike's stomach and wiped it down again. Mike went limp and closed his eyes.

"Is he ok?" Micky asked worriedly unable to let go of Mike's hand.

"He's been through a lot, Micky," Peter said. "He needs his rest."

"Right," Micky said though he was still worried. "What do we do now?"

"We all get some rest," Peter said. Micky looked at him weird. It was weird for Peter to be taking charge like this, but he guessed that someone had to since Mike was incapacitated.

"I'm not that tired," Micky said. "I can stay up and keep watch. You guys get some rest."

"I don't know if I'll even be able to sleep," Davy muttered. "Not after all this."

"Mike's gonna be ok, Davy," Peter said. "He'd want you to at least try."

"I think I'm gonna take a shower first," Davy answered walking to the bathroom.

"You know he'd want you to eat, too," Micky told Peter as Davy shut the door behind him. Peter nodded and walked over to the bag sitting on the bed. There were a few more burgers left in it and Peter took one out for himself and handed one to Dave while setting another aside for Davy.

"Thank you, Dave," Peter said.

"I just can't believe I did it," Dave laughed. "Normally the first time I try a spell it takes awhile to get it right."

"Guess it shows how far you've come," Peter said.

"Actually, it shows that he does better when working from the heart," said a voice from the doorway making them all jump.

"Balthazar!" Dave exclaimed. "I thought we locked that."

"You did," Balthazar answered shutting the door behind him. "I unlocked it. Wasn't that hard."

"So if you're here, does that mean you found something?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Not quite," Balthazar answered walking over to Mike to look at his wound. "I just wanted to check on you. I have made a little headway...found a few leads, but that's all. You did good, Dave. I'm proud of you. You certainly have come a long way from enchanting mops and brooms."

"Thanks," Dave smiled.

"How long do you think we have?" Peter asked. "Until this thing kills Micky?"

"Well, that depends," Balthazar said. "How do you feel, Micky?"

"Fine," Micky answered. "Just worried about Mike."

"Dave did a good job taking care of your friend," Balthazar said. "I wouldn't worry too much about him. He'll be fine in about an hour or two. How long did you sleep?"

"No idea," Micky answered.

"About half the day," Peter answered. "Longer than the last time. He only just woke up about 10 minutes ago."

"Well, it's kind of early to tell," Balthazar said, "but maybe a week or two."

"A week?" Peter breathed.

"I'll be fine, Peter," Micky sighed. "Balthazar already said he was finding out a few things. Don't worry about me. We need to just focus on keeping us safe."

"What have you found so far?" Dave asked.

"Not much," Balthazar answered. "Just more information on the ring itself. Nothing so far on how to get it off. Dave, can I speak to you outside?"

"Sure," Dave answered and followed Balthazar out just as Davy came out of the shower.

"That was fast," Micky laughed knowing it usually took a lot longer for Davy to shower and preen.

"Shower sucks," Davy said. "Got cold really fast. Sorry, Peter."

"That's ok," Peter said with a yawn. "I'll just take one in the morning."

"Go to bed, Pete," Micky said waving at the unoccupied bed he had just been lying on. "You too, Davy."

"Where'd Dave go?" Davy asked.

"Outside to talk to Balthazar," Micky answered. "He's making progress on this ring thing. He just wanted to check on us."

"What did he say about Mike?" Davy asked casting a worried glance at their sleeping friend.

"He said Dave did a good job with the healing spell and that he should be fine in a few hours," Micky answered. "Now lay down. Get some sleep. I'll keep watch." Davy nodded and sat down with Peter on the bed. After a few minutes, Dave came back in saying Balthazar went back to looking for more information and that he had told Balthazar what happened at the other hotel. However, he glanced quickly at the ground and Micky got the sense that there was something he was neglecting to tell them. He then sat down at the table and started flipping back through the book of spells on the table. Davy and Peter were asleep within half an hour and Dave was still flipping through his book. Micky got bored and joined him after a while.

"What else did Balthazar say?" Micky asked.

"Nothing," Dave answered without looking at Micky's face.

"You don't lie very well," Micky said.

"Yeah, I guess I never have," Dave said. "Balthazar's always telling me that's one of the things he likes about me."

"Don't dance around it," Micky said. "What did he say?"

"He said I shouldn't say anything to you," Dave said. "It would only worry you."

"This whole thing is happening because of me," Micky sighed. "You need to tell me."

"He said there may not be a way out of this," Dave said after a moment.

"That I may have to die," Micky whispered.

"He said probably not, but there is a chance that there either isn't a way out or that he won't find it in time," Dave said trying to make it sound like less of a death sentence.

"And if that's true, then I'm putting my friends in danger for nothing," Micky said looking over at them. Davy and Peter lay on one bed fast asleep and Mike was passed out on the other bed. They all looked exhausted and Micky could only imagine the hell they'd gone through trying to protect him. And if there wasn't a way to get this ring off his finger, it would all have been for nothing. Micky stared at the ring on his finger praying and wishing for it to just come off. He laughed a little as Davy's joke echoed through his mind. "I don't suppose we could just chop off my hand."

"Seriously?" Dave asked.

"Well, it was a joke at first," Micky said. "But seeing them go through all this for me..."

"I doubt the ring would even let us do that," Dave said staring at Micky as though he were insane.

"Yeah," Micky sighed. "Why don't you get some rest, too? You look exhausted."

"I am," Dave answered. "But I want to make sure I'm prepared for anything. I need to read up some more on this stuff."

"Suit yourself," Micky said getting up. "I'm gonna take a shower. Hopefully the water's warm again by now." Micky walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes. Thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to pull himself together. Cutting his hand off was a stupid idea. Balthazar would definitely find a way to get this ring off him in time. Micky just had to keep thinking that way. If he didn't, he'd go crazy. After a few minutes, Micky turned on the shower and stepped in, trying to just focus on getting clean.

But he could still hear the echoes of Mike's cries of pain tear through his head. He closed his eyes and tried to make it stop. But he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about the amount of pain Mike must have felt just to protect him. He braced himself against the wall as the sound of a gunshot ripped through his head. Somehow he knew he was feeling everything Mike had felt, including the amount of fear coursing through his body. He tried to let the water running off his head take the feelings away, but it was no use. He felt the fear Mike felt as they had scrambled from the hotel room with Micky.

He almost screamed when he felt the pain of the knife slicing Mike's stomach. He didn't understand why he was feeling Mike's pain, but figured it was because of the ring. And because he'd been thinking about it. He sunk to his knees and almost threw up when he felt the pain of the spell Dave had used to close the wound. By the time the pain started to go away, the water beating down on his back was freezing. It almost felt like dozens of sharp ice cubes cutting through his back. He quickly reached up and turned off the water. He felt weak in the knees, but forced himself to stand and wrap a towel around his waist and sat down on the toilet.

He hated himself for being the reason Mike had gone through all that. It had only been a few days and already Mike had been in enormous amounts of pain. And it was all done to keep Micky safe from the people who wanted this ring. He felt anger surge through him both at himself and the people who had hurt Mike. Maybe he should at least try another way to get this ring off. They'd tried the conventional ways, but there was another way they hadn't tried yet. He'd been terrified at the thought of doing it at first and then only hesitant. But now he figured he owed it to Mike to at least try.

The ring glowed again and suddenly Micky was holding a butchers knife in his hand. He knew Dave had said the ring probably wouldn't let him cut his finger or hand off, but he had to try. Sure it would hurt like hell, but he needed to do something to spare the rest of his friends from going through what Mike had just gone through. If the ring wasn't going to let him do this, why was the ring letting him use enough magic to conjure up the knife? He didn't want to make a mess in the bathroom so he walked over to the sink and stared at himself in the mirror trying to get the courage to do it.

He had tried before to keep them out of danger when he got himself into trouble very unsuccessfully. When he'd impersonated notorious gangster Babyface, Mike and Peter had offered to help recover the stolen jewels when he got in a bind. He remembered telling them not to worry about it because it was his mess and he'd clean it up. But it had only been moments later that Babyface's goons had all but dragged him with them to get the jewels early and Mike and Peter hadn't hesitated to go with to back Micky up. He also remembered when Peter had come running to rescue him after being kidnapped by the Chinese mob; willing to completely sacrifice himself. They had once again been saved by Mike and Davy. This time, Micky wasn't so sure they'd be as lucky as they were in past situations. Mike had already been hurt worse than they ever had and Micky couldn't let it go any further.

Resolved, he took the knife and tried to press it into his finger just above the ring. He braced himself to feel enormous amounts of pain, but nothing happened. Just as Dave had predicted, he was met with resistance, but not like Micky had expected. It was as if his skin was solid like a sheet of metal that wouldn't puncture. He groaned and tried to push the blade into his wrist. Again, he met resistance. The ring wasn't going to let him do this. He groaned angrily and tried again, but met with the same result. He just couldn't do it. But not for lack of trying.

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing!?" Mike exclaimed behind him. Micky whirled around and didn't even realize he was still holding the knife.

"Mike," Micky breathed startled. "You're supposed to be in bed!"

"I'm fine," Mike said staring at the knife in Micky's hand. "Just sore. Looked around and saw everyone else asleep and you gone. Wanted to make sure you were ok. Now what the hell are you doing?"

"Forget it," Micky said throwing the knife into the sink. "Didn't work anyway."

"That doesn't answer my question, Micky," Mike said. "What the hell were you thinking!?"

"Just go back to bed," Micky said.

"Not until you explain why you were trying to cut off your hand!" Mike insisted.

"Because of that!" Micky said pointing at Mike's wound and trying to cover up his unraveling emotions. "Because I tried so damn hard to tell myself that everything was going to be ok, but then I felt it, Mike."

"You felt what?" Mike asked calming down a little.

"I felt that," Micky said breaking down and sinking to his knees. He didn't have the strength or energy to fight back against the flood of emotions trying to burst through. "I felt what you felt. The stupid ring forced me to feel it. I tried to make it go away, but I felt everything. The fear, the panic, the gunshot, the knife, everything. Even the pain from Dave healing you. It was horrible. And it was because of me. It was because you were trying to protect me again because I can't..."

"Micky, stop," Mike said kneeling down and pulling Micky into his arms. "Don't talk like that. This isn't your fault."

"I wanted to fix it," Micky said.

"What's going on?" Peter asked from the doorway. Mike nodded toward the discarded blade and Micky heard him softly say "hide that" still holding Micky in his arms, patting his back gently.

"It's gonna be okay, Mick," he said softly. "We're gonna fix this. Just...you can't go can't go tryin' things like that, okay? Promise me, Mick. We can't...I can't...it ain't gonna come to that. Trust me, I won't let it come to that. Alright?"

"What did you do, Micky?" Davy asked eyeing the knife. "Please don't tell me you did what i think you did."

"It doesn't matter," Micky said pulling away from Mike. "The ring won't let me do it. It turned my skin solid. I couldn't even pierce the skin."

"Are you stupid!?" Davy exploded. "You tried to cut off your hand!?"

"Davy, why don't we go outside," Peter said trying to push Davy out the door. Micky felt like he was going to explode back at Davy, but the last little bit of emotion broke, and Micky just collapsed.

"I'm so sorry," Micky sobbed sitting on the floor next to the toilet.

"Micky, stop," Mike said sitting down next to him. Davy and Peter just stood there in the doorway; Davy looked scared and angry while Peter looked broken. "Just stop. It's gonna be ok. This isn't your fault, you hear me? We're gonna get through this. I swear to you. Together."

"I'm sorry, mate," Davy said kneeling down next to Micky. "I...I shouldn't have yelled. I just got scared for you. You know how I get. I don't want you to lose your hand."

"I'd rather lose my hand than one of you," Micky said.

"It's not gonna come to that, Micky," Mike said.

"Balthazar told Dave there may not be a way out of this," Micky said. Silence followed as everyone turned to stare at Dave who had so far watched just beyond the door terrified.

"You know what I learned?" Dave said finally. "Last year, I thought all hope was lost. I thought Balthazar was dead. Killed by Morganna. But I didn't give up on him. I restarted his heart by shocking it and brought him back. I saved him. You can't give up hope, because if you do, then you just give up. As long as you believe in it, anything's possible."

"That's right, Micky," Peter said. "How many times has it looked bad for us? But we still pulled through."

"It's never been this bad, Peter," Micky mumbled.

"Maybe not," Peter said. "But that doesn't change anything. I still have hope that we'll get through this. As long as we stick together, we can do this."


	13. Fallout

Author's Note: School has begun, so my time in between posts might be a little longer. Gonna try and keep up on it, but homework comes first.

Chapter 13: Fallout

Mike had still been growing increasingly worried over the next few days. They hadn't had any other incidents with either Horvath or Abigail and Drake, but Mike felt his unease grow as Micky started sleeping longer and more often. He was always hungry when he woke up and ate like he hadn't eaten in days. He had even started to gain a little bit of weight which was surprising given how skinny he'd always been. Micky had started getting weak during the times he was actually awake, which worried all of them despite the fact Dave told them it was to be expected.

Micky hadn't said much about the incident in the bathroom, nor had he said much at all for that matter. Mike could tell he still felt bad for the things that had happened to Mike and what could potentially happen to the others. Any time one of them tried to talk to Micky to make him feel better, Micky would change the subject or crack a joke to avoid talking about it. But Mike knew he had to deal with it at some point. And the sooner he dealt with it, the better it would be on all of them.

Mike himself was beginning to lose hope, not that he had much to begin with. They hadn't heard from Balthazar again to know what, if anything, he was finding out about how to get the ring off without killing Micky. Peter had told Mike that Balthazar said Micky had maybe a week left until the ring finally killed Micky. This news, of course, did nothing to help ease Mike's nerves. And as he watched Micky deteriorate in front of him, he just wanted to explode on someone. He hated being cooped up in one hotel after another not being able to do anything but watch Micky get worse and worse.

Dave had done a good job of keeping them all cloaked and away from danger while skimming through his Incantus during the day. At night, they'd take turns sleeping just to keep watch in case something happened and they were found inadvertently. They had now made it to the border between California and Arizona, but could never be sure they weren't being followed. Mike found it difficult to sleep at night. He'd been unable to get the words Micky had said in that bathroom out of his mind. That Balthazar wasn't sure he'd find an answer. Which was what Mike was afraid of all along. Add to that the fact Micky was willing to go to extreme lengths to end this ordeal. It took every ounce of strength Mike had not to start crying every day.

They had only been in this current hotel just outside Arizona for a few hours when Micky woke up again. He'd been passed out cold for about 10 hours this time. He'd been sweating and looked now like he was starting to feel pain. Even when he was awake, Mike could tell that Micky was trying hard to hide the pain he felt. Mike tried to ask him once what kind of pain he was in and what he could do to help, but Micky had again changed the subject, refusing to talk to him. And because Mike didn't want to push it, he left Micky alone. As Micky woke up, Peter got a plate of pizza ready for Micky, but instead Micky lurched over the side of the bed. Mike barely reacted quickly enough and grabbed the trash bin, holding it under Micky so they wouldn't have to clean the floor.

"You ok, mate?" Davy asked sitting on the bed next to Micky rubbing his back gently. Peter darted into the bathroom to get a washcloth to help wipe Micky's face off.

"Micky?" Mike prompted when Micky didn't answer.

"I'm fine," Micky croaked finally. "Throat burns."

"Here," Mike said reaching on the nightstand for a glass of water he'd poured for himself earlier.

"Thanks," Micky answered taking the glass from him. Instead of sitting up and grabbing food like he normally did, he lay back down on the bed and tried to go back to sleep.

"Micky?" Davy asked with a worried look on his face.

"I'm fine," Micky insisted. "Just still a little tired."

"I got pizza for you," Peter offered.

"Thanks," Micky answered. "Just gimme a minute."

"You sure you're ok?" Davy asked. Mike shot him a look trying to warn him not to push Micky too hard. He didn't want Micky snapping again and trying to do something crazy and stupid.

"Yeah," Micky answered irritably. "Just let me rest."

"He's getting worse," Davy said quietly after he relented and walked over to the corner of the room. "I'm really worried. We don't have much time left."

"Dave, can you contact Balthazar and see if he found anything?" Peter asked sitting in a chair next to Dave.

"I can try and send him a message," Dave answered, "but I don't know if he'll respond right away. When he finds something, he'll tell us. He's not going to leave us hanging. I don't want to bother him while he's looking."

"Right," Davy answered. "We have no time for that. He needs to just keep at it."

"I guess you have a point," Peter answered glumly.

"If he even finds anything," Mike mumbled. He knew he shouldn't be voicing his fears, but he couldn't help it. The worse Micky got, the more hope he lost and he didn't have the energy to keep up the false hope facade for Peter and Davy anymore.

"Don't say that, Mike," Davy said. "He'll find a way."

"He said Micky has a week, maybe two, right?" Mike said a little more loudly than he'd intended, inadvertently drawing Micky's interest to their half whispered conversation

"Mike, that doesn't mean…" Peter started.

"What it means is we're running out of time," Mike answered. "Look at him. He's dying and there's not a damn thing we can do about it."

"We are doing what we can," Davy argued. "We're keeping him safe."

"Until the ring kills him," Mike countered.

"Maybe we should talk about this outside," Peter said casting a glance at Micky who was listening silently.

"Why?" Mike scoffed. He wasn't really sure why he was getting this upset. A week of keeping this all in and he was finally snapping. He hated what he was saying and doing, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "We can't keep anything from him obviously. That stupid ring will see to that."

"Mike-" Davy started but Mike cut him off.

"If it can make him feel all the pain I felt, it's going to make him feel this, too," Mike answered. "Might as well prepare him for it."

"For what?" Peter asked getting angry. "For you freaking out and losing hope or for him dying?"

"Peter…" Davy said sadly.

"Answer me, Mike!" Peter demanded. "Do you think we should prepare him to die!?"

"It might have to come to that," Micky answered himself. "I might die. You all might have to prepare for that."

"We aren't doing that, Micky," Davy said walking back over to him. "You aren't going to die. Mike's just upset."

"I'm being realistic, Davy!" Mike exclaimed.

"Stop it, Mike!" Peter yelled pushing himself out of the chair and sort of squaring off with Mike. It took Mike by surprise and he had to step back a little. Peter had never taken an aggressive stance with anyone, let alone one of them. "Knock it off! You think you're the only one freaking out? You're not! We all are! We're all scared about what's going to happen, but Davy and I still believe that everything is going to be ok. You're the only one losing hope. Maybe that's why Micky tried to cut off his hand! He did it after feeling what you felt, so maybe he felt your lack of faith, too. We're supposed to be friends. We're supposed to have faith in each other. Maybe if you still had faith in Micky, he wouldn't have tried to do what he did!"

"Peter," Davy said nervously. "Please calm down." Mike really didn't know how to respond. He'd never seen Peter like this before. Did Peter really blame him for Micky's foolish attempt at hurting himself? Mike did the only thing he could think of; he turned and walked toward the door. He couldn't stand to be in the same room as his friends right at that moment. He didn't deserve it. Peter was right. Mike had lost hope and it wasn't fair to the rest of them to have to deal with it. He heard Davy call after him, but ignored it.

"Leave him," Micky said as Mike shut the door behind him. "He needs to think."

"But-" Mike heard Davy say as he walked away. A part of him thanked Micky for telling the others to leave him alone, but another part also told him this was a bad idea and he should go back. But like he had all week, he chose to ignore it. He wasn't sure how far he'd walked or where he was even going, but he couldn't seem to clear his mind. Peter's words echoed through his head and tore through him. He must have really screwed up to have set Peter off like that. Mike didn't exactly understand why he'd screwed up so bad. Why he'd lost faith that Micky would get better. All he knew was that he couldn't stand seeing Micky as sick as he was anymore, but there wasn't anything he could do to fix it.

In fact, he'd made it worse. He had tried to hope and pray that everything would be ok in the end, but sometimes hoping didn't get you anywhere. You had to actually do something. And he wasn't doing anything. And that was what was killing him the most. He should have been researching the ring right alongside Balthazar. He should have been trying other ways to get the ring off. He should have stopped Micky from putting the stupid ring on in the first place. He was the "adult". He wasn't the oldest; he was the most responsible. He was the one they all looked up to; they relied on him for guidance. And he had failed them.

He understood in that moment why Peter had been so upset with him. He led them all by example, and his example was one of surrender. Instead of fighting and having faith that everything would work out, he'd given up. And not just on Micky. He'd given up on all of them. Sure, it was a good idea to prepare for the worst as he always did, but he had also never told them he was preparing himself for the worst. Even though he doubted Micky would be able to pull through this, he should have just kept his mouth shut. He felt horrible for having upset Peter bad enough to react that way.

He decided it would be best to turn around and go back; somehow explain where he was coming from and work things out with his friends. But as soon as he turned around, he saw a shadow cross in front of him. He froze in fear and his mind began racing with ways to escape. In a split second, he'd located all the possible escape routes: two alleys, an open door, and straight ahead down the street back to the hotel. But if he went back, he'd be leading whoever was following him back to the hotel. Straight to Micky and the ring.

Deciding to try and lose his pursuer, he darted down one of the alley's. He barely made it two steps into the alley, however, when he heard something crash at his feet. He stumbled and fell to the ground just as a dark cloud of smoke enveloped him. He couldn't see through the haze and soon couldn't even breath. He tried to push himself up and run, but his muscles weren't listening to him anymore. He was completely limp. Through the cloud, he heard a voice laughing snidely at him.

"Not exactly who I was hoping for," the voice said. "But you'll do."

* * *

"Leave him," Micky said to Davy and Peter who both tried to stop Mike from leaving. "He needs to think." As much as Micky wanted to join them in getting Mike to stay, he knew better. Pressuring someone to stay and talk things out when they didn't want to would only make it worse. He was, after all, grateful to Mike that he hadn't pressured Micky into talking about what happened in the bathroom.

"But what if he gets into trouble," Davy argued.

"We haven't seen anyone for days," Micky said though he felt worried himself. "He just needs a few minutes to pull himself together."

"Davy's right," Dave said. "He shouldn't be out there alone."

"No, but that's what he needs," Micky answered. "Otherwise we're all probably going to end up killing each other. Peter's right about one thing at least: I can feel what you guys are all feeling. Mike's pretty close to a complete breakdown and if he doesn't work through this and think on his own, he'll destroy himself."

"I shouldn't have done that," Peter mumbled sinking back into the chair. "I'm really sorry. I don't know why I did that."

"Stress," Micky answered simply. "I know you didn't really mean most of that, Pete, but when Mike gets back you should tell him that. Tell him you don't think it's his fault I tried to hurt myself."

"I didn't even mean for it to come out like that," Peter said. "I've never felt so angry like that before. Ever. I know it's not Mike's fault any of this is happening or that you felt like you had to hurt yourself, but…"

"Peter, don't explain it to me," Micky sighed. "You need to talk to Mike. But you have to let him figure out what his emotions are too, otherwise everything will just explode again."

"Maybe someone should just follow him," Davy mumbled looking out the window.

"I got him," Micky said.

"What?" Peter asked confused.

"The ring," Micky said. "Like I said, I can feel what he feels. If something happens, I'll be the first to know. Besides, they want me, not you guys."

"But what if it isn't soon enough," Davy answered.

"If he finds out one of you is following him, he's going to get even more mad," Micky sighed. He wanted to admit that Davy was right, but he also felt the amount of anger, despair, and aggravation coming from Mike and knew that Mike was essentially a ticking time bomb. Anything would set him off and he wasn't sure their relationship would survive an explosion like that. "I know it's not ideal and I know it's dangerous, but I'm more worried about what will happen if he doesn't cool down. We've haven't been followed, right? No one has attacked us? We're way out in the middle of nowhere far away from home? We've been pretty much left alone?"

"That doesn't mean something's not going to happen," Dave said.

"True, but you guys have obviously left long enough to get food, right?" Micky said. "So Mike should be fine."

"We've always left in pairs, Micky," Davy said.

"Davy, he's already feeling better about things," Micky said. "I can…" Micky stopped dead in his tracks as suddenly something hit him. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he felt pain course through his body. More pain than he was already feeling. He must have screamed because he was suddenly surrounded by the three left in the room. But that didn't really matter to him. He closed his eyes and suddenly found himself running through an alley filled with smoke. He saw Mike gasping for air on the ground as someone moved to hover over him. Micky tried to scream at Mike to run, but he could tell Mike was immobile. His legs, arms, hands, face; everything was frozen. He couldn't do anything to try and escape. Micky tried to help him, but he couldn't do anything either. He felt himself being pulled backwards and he was suddenly back on the bed in the hotel room. His stomach lurched again as the pain ripped through him. It felt like his entire body was coursing with electricity.

"Micky, what happened?" Peter asked as Micky rolled over and threw up in the trash bin again.

"Micky?" Davy pushed when Micky didn't answer.

"Mike," Micky managed to choke out.

"What about him?" Dave asked.

"Someone took him," Micky answered hating himself for convincing his friends to leave him be. Maybe if he had let Davy follow him, Mike would be ok. But maybe whoever took Mike would have also taken Davy. He tried to convince himself of that as Davy swore under his breath and darted out the room to look for Mike.


	14. Kidnapped

Author's Note: Sorry about the ending. It's kinda rushed and stuff, but I wanted to give you all your dose of monkee fic.

Chapter 14: Kidnapped

Micky's words echoed through Peter's ears. Someone took Mike. Peter's last words to Mike had been extremely angry and uncalled for. He hadn't even had a chance to apologize. Now he prayed that he would get the chance to make things right with Mike. But he didn't know how. Davy's face completely drained of all color and bolted towards the door. Peter knew if Davy went after Mike now, it wouldn't end well so he ran over and grabbed Davy by the shoulders.

"Peter, let go of me!" Davy yelled.

"You can't go after him," Peter said.

"Watch me!" Davy yelled.

"Davy, he's right," Micky choked out. "It's too late. You go after him and you're just gonna get hurt or get taken, too."

"Did you see who it was?" Dave asked.

"No," Micky answered. "Just a cloud of smoke down an alley. Mike couldn't move. He couldn't fight back."

"You told us to stay!" Davy exclaimed. "You told us not to follow him! This wouldn't have happened if you'd let me go after him!"

"Davy, stop!" Peter tried knowing how badly those words must have hurt Micky.

"Don't you think I know that?" Micky yelled back. "Like I'm not already hating myself for this!"

"Stop, both of you," Dave said firmly. "This is not the time for finger pointing or self-doubt. If you had gone after him, it still could have happened but worse. Whoever took Mike could have taken you both or killed one of you and taken the other. There's no way to know."

"He's right," Peter said as Davy finally stopped fighting him. "We can't afford to fight with each other here. Now we need to focus on what we do to save Mike."

"First thing we have to figure out exactly what happened," Dave said. "I'll contact Balthazar and get him down here." Dave walked over to the window and opened it for a second. A small spark of light emanated from his hand and flew up toward the sky before disappearing from view.

"Now what?" Davy asked irritably.

"Micky, what else can you tell us about what happened to Mike?" Dave asked walking back over to the center of the room. "Where did this happen?"

"It was in an alley," Micky said desolately. "I didn't see who it was. He said "Not who I was expecting, but you'll do". I don't know what that means."

"Probably expecting you," Peter said. "And will probably use Mike for bait instead."

"Yeah, but why was he expecting any of us?" Micky asked. "He had to have known we would all stick together."

"You don't think he's been watching us, do you?" Davy asked glancing toward the window. "He saw us fighting?"

"Not possible," Dave answered. "I put spells around the hotel to protect us. If anyone got close enough, I'd know."

"Does that really matter?" Peter asked. "We have to figure out how to get Mike back."

"Easiest solution," Micky said. "He's bait, right? We give whoever took him what he wants."

"Yes, cause that worked so well when Peter tried that," Davy retorted.

"This is different," Micky answered.

"No, it's not," Peter argued. "I'm not letting you give yourself up for Mike. I made a mistake trying to trade myself for you. People like that don't bargain. And they lie. Remember?"

"They'll have to bargain," Micky said. "I have the ring. I can use it. If it's Horvath or Abigail and Drake, they have no magic. I'll have the upper hand."

"Micky, it's not an option," Davy said firmly. "You're too weak to be going anywhere. Besides, they obviously do have magic. You said Mike couldn't move...how could they do that without magic?"

"There's an immobilization powder," Dave answered. "Anyone can make it if you know what to use. I haven't seen it; just read about it. Any of them could have made it."

"So it doesn't really tell us anything," Peter sighed looking over at Micky. He could almost see the guilt written on his face and remembered the feeling behind it. When Micky had been taken by the Chinese instead of Peter, he couldn't live with himself. If he hadn't been stupid enough to take all those fortune cookies, Micky never would have been kidnapped. But he had also learned that trading yourself didn't work. If it did, Peter would have gladly traded himself over for Mike.

"That'll be Balthazar," Dave said when they heard a knock at the door. Dave let Balthazar in and told him what had happened. Balthazar sighed heavily and looked at Micky.

"Do you know what alley it was?" Balthazar asked.

"One not too far from here," Micky answered. "I don't know exactly which one."

"Would you recognize it if you saw it?" Balthazar asked.

"Yes," Micky answered confidently. "Why?"

"Well, if your friend was taken as bait, they'll have left a trail for you to follow," Balthazar said. "A way for you to give yourself up. I can try and follow that trail and get him myself."

"Then let's go look for it," Micky said getting off the bed. As soon as he stood up, his knees buckled and he fell on the bed.

"Micky, you haven't eaten yet," Davy said.

"I really don't care," Micky answered. "Food is the last thing on my mind right now."

"You're too weak," Davy argued. "You won't be able to do anything without energy."

"Davy, eating isn't going to give me enough energy right now," Micky said. "I doubt I'd be able to keep anything down at this point anyway."

"I need you to try and walk with me," Balthazar said walking over to try and hold Micky up. "I need you to find that alley."

"I'll be fine," Micky said pushing Balthazar off him slightly. "You need to be ready to fight in case we need it." He took one step however, and fell back down onto the bed.

"Micky, let me help you, please," Peter said helping Micky back up. He knew Micky was at least right about Balthazar needing to be ready to fight, but he also knew Micky was too weak to walk on his own. Micky relented and wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders to support himself. Balthazar led the way out of the room and Davy followed closely behind. Dave followed Micky and Peter in case they were attacked from behind. When they got outside, Micky looked up and down the street for a few moments before pointing north.

"I think that may be it," Micky said. "But it's too far away. I need to get closer to know for sure."

"Carefully," Balthazar said leading them to the alley MIcky had pointed at. With Micky moving as slowly as he was, it took a while to get to the alley, but Peter could still see a small sheen of smoke even in the darkness. But no signs of Mike.

"This is it," Micky said.

"Paralyzing powder?" Dave asked as Balthazar inspected the area.

"More than likely," Balthazar answered. He waved his hand and a gust of wind blew away what remained of the smoke. "I've only ever seen it used once."

"I don't see anything that would tell us where they took Mike," Davy said looking around.

"Neither do I," Balthazar answered.

"So he wasn't used as bait?" Davy asked fearfully. "You think they're going to kill him?"

"If whoever took him wanted him dead, they wouldn't have paralyzed him," Balthazar answered. "And he is bait. There's only one reason to take your friend alive."

"Me," Micky answered.

"The ring," Balthazar corrected. "I believe whoever took him wanted you to see it. Expected you to because of the ring. And they'll also believe you can find him the same way."

"Use the ring to see where they took Mike?" Micky asked.

"Try it," Balthazar said. "Come into the alley. The connection will be stronger if you stand where he was taken." Peter helped Micky walk further into the alley and felt Micky tense up. Peter didn't want to stand in the spot Mike was hurt any more than Micky did, but it was their only way of trying to save him.

"What do I do?" Micky asked softly. Peter could hear both despair and determination in his voice. He hated that they had to do this, but would put himself through anything to save Mike. Peter felt the same way.

"Close your eyes," Balthazar said; Micky complied. "Focus your mind on Mike. Reach out him."

"What do you mean reach out to him?" Micky asked.

"Feel him as though he were standing right next to you," Balthazar answered. "Like if you opened your eyes, you could turn and talk to him. Focus on that." They waited for anything to happen, but nothing did. Micky finally sighed heavily and opened his eyes.

"It's not working," Micky said despondently.

"Try harder," Balthazar said.

"I'm trying," Micky answered.

"You may have to use up every last bit of energy you have right now," Balthazar said.

"That's not fair," Peter said. "He does that and he'll collapse again."

"He doesn't do that and your friend dies," Balthazar answered.

"I thought you said he didn't want to kill Mike," Davy argued.

"He doesn't want to, but he may kill Mike out of impatience," Balthazar answered. "Or to send a message."

"Guys, he's right," Micky said closing his eyes again. Davy rushed over to help Peter support Micky in case he fell. After several minutes, Micky gasped in pain again like he had in the hotel when he'd seen Mike get taken. He dropped to his knees and Peter and Davy held him tightly to make sure he didn't fall too hard and hurt himself.

"Micky?" Davy asked fearfully, but Micky didn't answer them; he only looked more pained. "I don't like this. He shouldn't be doing this. We need to stop this."

"We can't," Balthazar said.

"Why is this hurting him?" Peter asked.

"The ring needs a lot of magic to produce a psychic vision," Balthazar answered. "Even some of the greatest wizards in the world never got them. The only one I ever met was Merlin and it drained him every time he got one. Some powerful wizards can tap into echoes of past events and see those, but seeing future and current events are more difficult."

"Mike," Micky finally breathed collapsing to the ground fully.

"Did you see him?" Davy asked.

"He's scared," Micky answered softly. "I didn't see where he is."

"What did you see, Micky?" Balthazar asked.

"A large room," Micky answered. The weakness in his voice churned Peter's stomach. "Maybe a warehouse or something. I didn't get a good look. Tall windows. Mostly empty space with a few boxes and crates. Mike was tied up and gagged."

"I doubt they went very far," Balthazar said. "I'll take a look around and see what I can find. Get back to the hotel and rest. I'll be back when I can." Peter nodded and together he and Davy helped carry Micky back to the hotel. He hung limply between them the whole way, trying unsuccessfully to walk on his own. He collapsed on the bed when they got back to the hotel and they all waited. Peter was too nervous to really say anything and sat next to Micky to keep an eye on him while Davy paced back and forth around the room. Dave sat and flipped through his Incantus. It took several hours for Balthazar to come back and when he did, he looked worn out and had a cut above his eye.

"What happened?!" Dave exclaimed.

"He was ready for me," Balthazar answered. "He had the place rigged with potions and charms. He doesn't have his powers anymore, but he's getting a lot of help from someone."

"Where's Mike?" Davy asked.

"I couldn't get to him," Balthazar answered. "I'm sorry. I couldn't even get close enough to figure out who took him."

"Is he ok?" Peter asked.

"For now, but we're gonna have to approach this a little differently," Balthazar answered. "I need a little time to prepare a different plan of attack. And I'm gonna need Dave's help, but if I pull him away from here, that leaves the rest of you vulnerable. We don't have a lot of time left to get that ring off anyway."

"What are you saying?" Davy asked. "We just abandon Mike?"

"Not abandon him," Balthazar answered. "But with some of the protections he has put up around your friend, I can't even begin to get near him. He's using some ancient magic I've never fought before. He's been preparing for this for a while. Probably all year. We have to get that ring off Micky first."

"Won't that take away our bargaining chip?" Micky asked.

"He wants the ring in the end, not you," Balthazar said. "You'll die in a few days if we can't get that ring off you. He's gone through that much effort to keep me out, he's gonna keep your friend alive until he gets the ring. As long as we have it, whether its on your finger or not, Mike lives. We need to focus on you first."

"What if Mike dies before that?" Davy asked angrily.

"I think Balthazar's right," Peter said. "Whoever took Mike isn't going to kill him. He needs Mike alive to get the ring. Mike'll be fine for now; Micky won't. We can't try and rescue Mike unprepared anyway."

"It's not right just leaving Mike there," Micky said.

"It's not right letting you die either," Peter said. "Mike would never forgive himself, or us, if we let you die trying to rescue him."

"We don't even know how to get it off," Micky answered.

"I think I may have found a solution," Balthazar said. "I was researching a disempowerment spell when I got your SOS. It'll remove the power from the ring and that should allow us to remove the ring itself."

"If we do that, the ring becomes useless," Micky said. "We can't get Mike back."

"They won't know we've done that until they try to use the ring," Balthazar answered. "We can trade the ring for Mike. They won't know it's been destroyed until they try and use it and by then we'll have Mike and can take out whoever it is that took him."

"And if they ask how we got the ring off Micky's hand?" Davy asked.

"We tell them he died," Balthazar said simply. "We lie. I don't like lying, but it's the best option we have to save your friend and end all this."

"I agree," Peter said. "I think that will work."

"What do you need from me?" Dave asked.

"I just need to finish my research," Balthazar said. "I'll only be another few hours. Stay here. I'll be back with the supplies we'll need." Dave nodded and Balthazar turned to leave. With one last glance at the others in the room, he smiled. "Don't worry. I'll get your friend back alive. Just stay here and get some rest." But Peter found it very difficult to rest. Over the next hour, he tried leaning his head on the pillow, but found it very hard to actually sleep. He kept worrying about Micky and Mike. Micky finally nibbled at some food, but didn't eat much. After a few hours of uncomfortableness between all of them, Peter finally closed his eyes against the pillow, but when he opened them, Micky was gone.


	15. Attempted Trade

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay...had a bad week. But it's getting better. Hope you like!

Chapter 15: Attempted Trade

Mike wasn't entirely sure what was happening. Someone had moved him from the alley and was carrying him somewhere. He couldn't move to see where he was being taken. All he could see was the dark starry sky above him. He tried to move; to somehow free himself, but it was no use. He was carried into a large building and could only stare at the ceiling while the person laid him down on a stack of crates. Again, he tried to move, but couldn't. It was like all his muscles had just stopped listening to him.

The person that had captured him was able to move Mike, however. He moved behind him and grabbed Mike's wrists, pulling them together behind his back to tie them. Funny as it sounded, Mike felt a little surge of hope at this. It meant that whatever was keeping him from moving would eventually wear off and Mike would be able to move again. And hopefully escape.

As time wore on, he heard the man moving about the room they were in, but couldn't see what he was doing. When he felt his fingers start to twitch, he got excited. He could try and escape. He listened carefully to try and figure out where the man was and was actually able to tilt his head a little, but only slightly. He'd have to regain more movement if he was gonna get out of here. He knew he'd have to try and push himself up and run for it; he just had to find a door first. And hope that he was either fast enough to outrun his captor or that he could do it without the captor noticing.

When he finally moved his head enough to spot the door, he heard several loud crashing noises. He wasn't sure what was going on, but then he heard a loud yell as if someone had been hurt. He hoped it wasn't Micky, Peter and Davy coming to rescue him, but thought it could be so he fought against the ropes binding him. He had to free himself; he had to help them. But he still couldn't move enough to do anything other than move his hands. There was no way he'd be getting loose from his bonds or even be able to stand.

"You realize you're only wasting your energy, don't you?" the voice belonging to the man that had captured him laughed at him. Mike tried to move his head to see who it was, but couldn't see.

"Let me go," Mike said through clenched teeth; partly because he couldn't move his jaw.

"Sorry, friend," the voice laughed again. "That's just not going to happen. You don't let go of the worm before the fish bites, now do you?"

"Really not in the mood for stupid analogies," Mike snapped, though he understood perfectly clear. He was the bait for Micky and the ring. But did that mean the commotion wasn't caused by Micky?

"Sorry, friend," the voice laughed again. "You're still too valuable to me. You're friends will come try and rescue you. And when that happens...I'll let them. In exchange for the boy with the curly hair, of course. Or the ring. Whatever the case turns out to be."

"Stop calling me that," Mike growled. "I'm not your friend. And I swear, if you hurt one hair on Micky's head…" Mike started but was cut off by another loud crash followed by an eery silence.

"Sounds like our visitor has finally left," the voice chuckled.

"What was that?" Mike asked curiously.

"Someone trying to rescue you, of course," the man answered. "But I've put up enough charms to ensure they can't. Not without your friend. Not without the ring. Whoever it was got the message."

"What did you do to me?" Mike asked. "Why can't I move?"

"I had to immobilize you," the man answered. "Only way to ensure you wouldn't fight me back. I need to show your friends you're ok before they come looking for you."

"Don't you dare hurt any of my friends," Mike growled.

"I won't," the man answered moving in front of Mike. "Not unless they give me cause. But seeing as how they didn't come running to the bait as fast as I thought they would, maybe a little more incentive will help speed things along." Mike flinched a little as he saw the man's boot coming toward his face, but it was inevitable. He still couldn't move enough to get out of the way. Pain erupted through his face and Mike cried out in pain just before he passed out.

* * *

Micky fought off the desire to throw up as he made his way down the alley where Mike had been taken. He was weak and his head hurt, but he had to keep pushing. He'd left his friends in the hotel room alone knowing they would only try and stop him. And he couldn't let them stop him. He had felt the panic rise in Mike as time progressed and hated that they were going to make Mike wait. He'd been ready to go along with Balthazar's plan, but then he'd felt a twinge of pain from Mike. He wasn't sure what was happening to him, but knew Mike was in pain. He knew Mike couldn't wait.

When he'd realized Mike needed immediate help, he'd almost said something but knew his friends would continue to side with Balthazar. He knew his friends would say to wait. But he couldn't. He figured he'd wait until they fell asleep, but they wouldn't. Not very easily. Davy nodded off a little, Balthazar left, Dave kept his nose in his book and Peter tried to fall asleep, but couldn't. Micky had wished that they'd just hurry up and fall asleep so he could sneak out and try to find Mike. Before he knew it, the ring on his finger glowed and Peter fell asleep finally and Dave nodded off on his book.

He felt terrible that he had made them go to sleep and had worried about whether or not they were going to wake up. Before he left, he checked to make sure they were really just sleeping. Once he was reasonably satisfied that they were fine, he snuck out the door and walked slowly toward the alley. Now that he was here, he didn't know what to do. No one had told him where Mike was and he didn't know how he was going to find him. He could only hope that if he repeated what Balthazar had him do the first time that he would be able to see a little more.

He sat on the ground unable to stand much longer and closed his eyes. He tried to reach out to Mike, but like the first time, nothing happened. He groaned in frustration and pulled every ounce of strength he had before trying again. This time it worked. He could see Mike lying on the same crates he had before. There was a small amount of blood dripping from his nose and his hands were tied behind his back. Even though his eyes were closed, Micky could tell Mike was terrified. And he was in pain.

Micky tried to get a bigger look of the room to try and find out where Mike was, but didn't see much else. He couldn't even see anyone else in the room. He wasn't getting any more information this time around than he had the first. Just that Mike was now hurt somehow. He opened his eyes and groaned in despair, lying on the ground and staring at the stars. He wasn't sure how long he lay there trying to regain some of his strength before he felt a slight pull. Like someone was taking his hand and pulling on it. He looked down at his hand, but saw nothing.

He decided to get up and follow the direction he felt the pull in. Maybe this was a way of leading him to Mike. He feared that somehow he was being led into a trap, but didn't care. He couldn't get the image of Mike lying on those crates bleeding, tied up and scared out of his mind. That's what drove him down the back of the alley and towards another street. Once he reached the street, he felt a pull towards the left and followed it. Within about half an hour, he had arrived in front of a very large run-down warehouse.

He wasn't sure walking in was such a great idea, but he didn't really know what else to do so that's what he did. He stood in the doorway for a moment feeling weak and tired from the walk, but not ready to give up. Off in the distance, he finally saw Mike, curled up and lying on a stack of crates like he'd seen in his mind earlier. Micky barely had enough strength to run to his friend but dropped to his knees as soon as he reached Mike.

"Mike," Micky said desperately shaking his friend a little. "Are you ok? Please tell me you're ok."

"Micky?" Mike whispered opening his eyes a little. His face looked bruised and some of the blood under his nose had already started to dry up. It had been a while since Mike had been hurt.

"Mike, I'm gonna get you out of here," Micky said moving to undo Mike's bonds.

"No," Mike argued. "It's a trap. You have to leave."

"I know it's a trap," Micky answered. "But I'm still not leaving without you."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," said a voice behind Micky. Micky turned to face the man but didn't stand up. He didn't have the strength but didn't want to show his weakness to this man. "Either you can leave or your friend can leave. You can't have it both ways, my friend."

"Then let Mike go," Micky said.

"No," Mike argued. "I can't leave without you any more than you can leave without me."

"Mike, just go," Micky said. "I'll be fine."

"No you won't," Mike said. "That ring is gonna kill you."

"Isn't gonna kill me any faster or slower whether you're stuck here with me or not, Mike," Micky pointed out.

"Micky…" Mike started.

"Just go," Micky cut him off feeling a wave of nausea pass over him. He had to get Mike to leave before either of them saw just how weak Micky really was. He moved to finish untying Mike's hands from behind his back. "Don't worry about me. Please."

"Don't worry," the man said behind Micky. "We'll take good care of your friend here."

"Yeah, only because you need him alive until that ring kills him," Mike spat back. "Micky, don't do this. Please just go. Find a way to get that ring off without it killing you."

"I'm not going to leave you here to be hurt," Micky said indicating the blood under his nose.

"This is nothing," Mike said sitting up and wiping the blood out from under his nose.

"You look horrible," Micky argued noticing the coloration on his face turning darker by the second.

"So do you," Mike said looking at him firmly. Micky tried to hide the wave of dizziness he felt as the room started spinning, but couldn't when he fell forward. Mike caught him and gently laid him down on the ground next to him. Micky tried to get back up, but couldn't.

"You have about 5 seconds to leave," the man who'd kidnapped Mike said. "Or else you both stay."

"I'm staying," Mike said firmly looking down at Micky. "I'm not leaving him."

"Fine," the man said. "Suit yourself."

"Mike…" Micky trailed off, but was too weak to really finish. He felt hot, like he was sitting on the beach under the warm sun on the hottest day imaginable. He felt like he was going to throw up. And he felt like he couldn't move; any time he tried, his muscles screamed in agony.

"Just relax, Micky," Mike said wiping some of the sweat off his forehead gently with the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm not leaving you. Especially not like this. Just relax and stop fighting it. I'm staying here with you." Micky wanted to fight back, but lacked the strength. And he had to admit, he knew Mike well enough to know there was no arguing with him. Once Mike's mind was made it, there was nothing that would change it.


	16. He's Gone

Author's Note: Please review...I need reviews...they're like candy...lol.

Chapter 16: He's Gone

Peter was terrified. Micky was nowhere to be found and both Davy and Dave were both passed out cold. Peter jumped up from the bed and ran over to Davy first, as he was closer to him. He had no doubt in his mind that Micky had left to go try and save Mike and he had no doubt that any attempt Micky made would be futile. He hated that he'd fallen asleep and let Micky go after Mike, but somehow he didn't think it was entirely his fault.

"Davy!" Peter exclaimed shaking his friend a little more vigorously than was necessary. "Davy, wake up!"

"What's the matter?" Davy mumbled rubbing his eyes.

"Huh!?" Dave jumped, falling flat on his butt out of the chair.

"Micky's gone!" Peter exclaimed pointing to the bed Micky had just been lying on.

"Oh no," Davy said jerking wide awake. "How long were we asleep?"

"About 5 hours," Peter said pointing at the clock. Out the window, it was starting to get light signaling an imminent sunrise.

"I thought one of us was supposed to stay awake and keep watch!?" Davy asked jumping out of bed and pulling his shoes on hastily.

"We were," Dave answered. "I think Micky may have hexed us."

"Micky would never do anything like that to us," Davy argued.

"He might if he thought we'd stop him from going after Mike," Peter admitted. "And maybe he didn't know he was doing it. He's done a lot of magic that way. It's the ring. It does whatever he wants to whether he knows he's doing it or not. He might be desperate enough to put us all to sleep if he thought he had to go after Mike."

"You think something happened?" Davy asked, face falling pale and slack.

"Maybe," Peter said. "It's not like he left a note."

"We have to go after him!" Davy said darting toward the door.

"And do what?" Dave asked. "You heard Balthazar; that place is way too well protected. We go after them and we'll die. If Balthazar barely got out of there, we don't stand a chance."

"Then neither will Micky," Davy said.

"I think maybe they'll just let Micky walk in," Peter said. He was scared and he was angry, but he knew Dave had a point. Going after Micky right now would be stupid. They had to formulate a plan first and the best way to start would be to collaborate with Balthazar.

"They need Micky alive, remember?" Dave said.

"But they don't need Mike alive anymore, do they?" Davy asked angrily.

"We just have to hope that they either let him go or don't hurt him," Peter said. "We can't go charging in there after them, Davy."

"Mike and I did," Davy argued. "We charged in and saved you!"

"That was different," Peter said. "This is much more dangerous...and we don't have Mike."

"Just hold tight," Dave pled. "I'll contact Balthazar and he can figure this out."

"Please calm down, Davy," Peter said. "Getting angry and charging off isn't going to help anything."

"How can I calm down?!" Davy asked angrily. "Mike may be dead by now! How are you so calm?! How are you not terrified and angry?!"

"I am, Davy," Peter argued, "but I can't afford to freak out. I do and we'll die right alongside Mike and Micky. What would Mike do?"

"He'd wait until we had a plan," Davy mumbled, annoyed that Peter was right. "I just really hate all this waiting."

"So do I," Peter said. "But we don't have a choice."

* * *

Mike tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and the tightness in his chest that had been making it difficult to breathe for hours now. He was scared for what might happen to him and his friends before Micky had even shown up, but the minute he saw the state Micky was in, his panic level shot through the roof. Then Micky had collapsed. It was all Mike could do to keep himself composed enough to catch Micky and take care of him.

His captor had seemed pleased that Micky had given himself up and had decided to move them from the warehouse in case someone else decided to launch a rescue effort. He'd insisted he wasn't afraid of anyone, just didn't want to be bothered by the inconvenience of having to fight. He preferred to focus on the task at hand: making the preparations needed to transfer the powers from the ring. Mike wasn't sure who he was planning on giving them too, but assumed it wasn't himself. He had magic.

He had transformed an old beat up car behind the warehouse into a large van and told Mike to get in the back of it with Micky. As much as Mike hated it, their captor had even helped Mike carry Micky since Micky didn't even have the strength to hold himself up anymore. Mike sat in the back of the van with Micky and their captor now, waiting to see where they were going. And he wondered who was driving. There was a barrier preventing Mike from even seeing the back of the persons head.

"Who are you, anyway?" Mike asked.

"Simon Adebisi," he answered. "Sorcerer. Evil genius. All that fun stuff."

"Why do you want the ring?" Mike asked hoping to get as much information as he could. "You have magic; what purpose would it serve you?"

"I want it for my friend," Simon answered nodding toward the front of the van. "I believe you met him: Maxim Horvath."

"You're working for Horvath?" Mike asked.

"Oh God, no," Simon laughed. "Horvath is working for me. He and Balthazar are the only two who have access to something I want. And since Balthazar obviously isn't going to help me get it, I proposed a deal to Horvath. I help get his powers back if he helps me get what I need. He needs his magic to get it anyway."

"What is it that you need?" Mike asked.

"That is a surprise, my friend," Simon answered with a creepy grin. "I can't ruin everything, you know."

"So why do you need me around?" Mike asked, though he was sure asking something like that was probably a bad idea. "Why keep me alive?"

"Killing is messy," Simon laughed. "And I gave you the option to leave. You refused. Besides, you can help keep him comfortable until the time comes."

"The time comes for him to die, you mean?" Mike asked angrily.

"It's unavoidable, I'm afraid," Simon said. "You are going to just have to come to terms with that." Mike bit his lip; he refused to believe that Micky was just going to die. But he was going to make sure that Micky stayed comfortable until help came. Though he wasn't entirely sure how that was going to happen. How would they be able to even find them? There had been one rescue attempt at the warehouse for him, but now they were moving and Mike wasn't sure Peter and the others would be able to find them again to wherever they were being moved to.

It felt like hours in the car, but looking at his watch, Mike saw it had only been an hour. When they finally stopped, Mike waited until the doors to the back of the van opened. Horvath stood there with a smile on his face and moved to grab Micky hastily. Mike tried to look around, but didn't get much of a chance; Horvath and Simon weren't exactly being gentle with Micky. Mike couldn't help himself. He shoved Horvath off Micky angrily when Micky groaned in pain.

"Leave him alone!" Mike yelled. Horvath nearly struck him back, but Simon got in the way and held him back.

"Relax, Maxim," Simon said smiling oddly. "There really is no reason to hurt the boy even further than he already is. Mike and I can carry the boy. You just get the door for us." Horvath looked like he was a little angry, but stood back nonetheless. Mike helped Simon carry Micky inside a small house in the middle of nowhere. Simon led the way up a flight of stairs and to a bedroom where they carefully set Micky down on the bed.

"Mike," Micky groaned a little.

"It's ok," Mike said, his stomach clenching at how weak his friend sounded. "Just relax, buddy. I'm here. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll have food brought up in a while," Simon said before he and Horvath left. Mike distinctly heard several bolts sliding to lock the door in place. They weren't going to escape that way.

"Mike, you should have left," Micky whispered.

"Yeah, and you shouldn't have come chasing after me in your condition," Mike chastised. "But it's done now. There's nothing either of us can do to change it. I'm gonna fix this, Micky. I'll find a way to get us out of here and we can find Balthazar and he can take the ring off. Everything's gonna be ok. Just hang in there."

* * *

"What do we do?" Davy asked once Dave had told Balthazar what had happened. "Tell me we can get them?"

"Yes and no," Balthazar answered. "We can't just run over there. There are too many traps."

"Yeah, but you have Dave to help you," Peter said hopefully. "Dave doesn't need to watch us anymore, right?"

"You're still targets," Balthazar answered. "The others may not know Micky's gone. I didn't say I didn't have a plan and I'll need your help, so that shouldn't be an issue. "

"We'll do anything," Peter said, hope filling him again.

"I got everything we need to do the ritual to get the ring off," Balthazar said. "But Dave, you're gonna have to do it."

"Why me?" Dave asked nervously. "Isn't that a little advanced?"

"So was what you did with Morgana," Balthazar answered. "So was bringing me back to life. I've never seen a sorcerer do that. You can do whatever you set your mind to, Dave. You just need the confidence and the will. I need to focus on keeping you defended. I've no doubt they'll try to attack us to stop us."

"Ok, so what are we waiting for?" Davy asked. "Let's go to that warehouse!"

"They aren't there," Balthazar said and Peter's stomach dropped again.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"He moved them," Balthazar answered. "I checked on my way here. A simple tracking spell should be able to find them, but it'll take time. As will teaching Dave how to do the ritual."

"How long will that take?" Peter asked. He really wanted to be right behind Davy rushing out the door, but he knew they needed to be ready. If they weren't, Micky and Mike would just die anyway.

"Do we even have time to wait!?" Davy asked.

"We don't have a choice," Balthazar said. "We don't know where we're going and Dave doesn't know how to help your friend. We'll need to get the ring off while we're there or else it will be too late. We still have a day or two left. But the longer we sit here and argue about it, the less time we have to do something about it."

"Just tell us what to do," Peter said putting a hand on Davy's shoulder hoping it would make him feel at least a little more relaxed.

"Unfortunately there isn't anything you really can do," Balthazar said. "It's up to me and Dave. But when we get there, you'll need to stay with your friend. We'll need all of you for the ritual to work."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. "We can't do any magic."

"Worry about that later," Balthazar said. "Just be prepared to leave the second Dave and I are ready and make sure you stay with Micky once we get there. Do not leave his side." Peter nodded and his mind began to race. What exactly did that mean? What could they possibly do to help Micky? As he watched Dave and Balthazar go into the corner of the hotel and start talking over an old piece of parchment, Peter decided he didn't care. Peter would do anything for Micky and Mike. If he could save either of them by sacrificing himself, he would do it in an instant. He didn't think it would come to that, but he was ready to do it if it did.


	17. Proposition

Author's Note: I wanted to say a special thank you to my wonderful friend Plushchrome. I was gone for a while because I wasn't feeling well and had stuff to deal with and she was there for me when I needed her. This story has always been dedicated to her, but I just wanted to make sure she knew how wonderful of a friend she is. How wonderful of a person she is.

Chapter 17: Proposition

Mike stared down at Micky lying on the bed on the second floor of the small house Simon Adebisi took them to. They'd been here a few hours and Micky was already fading away. He hadn't been able to say anything since they'd first arrived. Any time he tried to talk, he barely moved his lips apart before groaning in pain and nearly passing out. Micky was now nearly drenched in sweat and his face was completely drained of color. The few times Micky opened his eyes, the normal shine and glitter Mike saw in them had gone. Mike had never seen anyone die, but he could tell there was very little, if any life left in Micky.

"Drink," Mike said carefully lifting Micky's head up and bringing a small glass of water to Micky's dry, parched lips. Micky parted his lips slightly as Mike poured the water in his mouth. Micky drank a little of it, but spat some of it up and started coughing. "You ok?" Micky nodded and collapsed back down on the pillow. Mike grabbed a wet cloth he'd been using to clean the sweat off and once again dabbed Micky's face. It was all he could do to make his friend comfortable.

"How are things in here?" Simon asked coming in a minute later with a bowl of soup. Anger filled Mike at the very sight of him as he set the bowl on the table next to the bed.

"Go to hell!" Mike snapped sending the bowl crashing to the ground.

"Someone's testy," Simon laughed. "It's not really my fault, you know. You're friend is the one who put the ring on. He got himself into this mess. And to be fair, I offered to let you leave."

"You honestly expected me to leave him to die alone?" Mike asked, the knot in his stomach clenching. He knew what was happening and he'd just said it aloud. Micky was dying and there wasn't anything Mike could do about it.

"No, I didn't," Simon said. "I expected you to stay behind. That's what loyal friends do, right? Stay there with each other through thick and thin. I really do feel bad that you have to sit there and watch your friend die, but there's not much I can really do about that."

"Why don't I believe you," Mike muttered turning back to Micky.

"I didn't say you had to believe me," Simon said. "There may be a way to help him."

"How?" Mike asked turning to Simon and looking at him with disbelief. "You just said there wasn't anything you can do about this."

"No, what I said was there wasn't MUCH I could do about that," Simon corrected. "But there is one option. I just don't think you're willing to do it."

"What is it?" Mike demanded. He was still skeptical that there really was a way to help Micky, especially since the information was coming from the enemy, but he was willing to try anything.

"Well, remember my telling you about the item I'm after?" Simon asked. "Turns out, I need a little more than Maxim Horvath's help to get it."

"You want me to help you get it?" Mike asked. "What can I do to help you? I'm not a sorcerer or anything like you."

"No, but you don't have to be to sacrifice yourself," Simon answered.

"What?" Mike asked.

"You didn't think that Merlin would just leave an item such as this unprotected, did you?" Simon asked. "It requires a blood sacrifice to get to it."

"You want me to let you kill me?" Mike asked. "How is that going to save Micky?"

"Because once I get my hands on Merlin's staff, the most powerful object in the world, I can do whatever I want," Simon said. "I can bring your friend back to life."

"I don't get it," Mike said slowly. "If you need a human sacrifice, why do you have to make me agree to it? Why can't you just kill me?"

"Because it's not that kind of sacrifice," Simon answered. "You have to spill your own blood. Of your own free will."

"Mike," Micky whispered softly. He didn't have to say much else for Mike to know exactly what Micky was trying to say; he wanted Mike to refuse. But how could he? If he did this, Micky would be able to live. But on the other hand, could he really trust Simon to hold up his end of the bargain. And something else nagged at him.

"You said you didn't think I'd do it," Mike said staring into Micky's blank, almost dead eyes. "Yet you seem to know how loyal friends are. What makes you think I won't do it?"

"Because if you do," Simon answered softly, but with a sinister tone, "I'll be the most powerful being to ever walk the face of the Earth. More powerful than even Merlin himself. That's why he sealed the staff away. It was too powerful for even him to wield. With that staff, I can rule the world. Rule galaxies. Enslave anyone and everyone I want. Live forever."

"If I do it, you'll bring Micky back to life only to take over the world and enslave him?" Mike asked.

"It's better than being dead, isn't it?" Simon asked.

* * *

"Ok, so we all set with the plan?" Balthazar asked several hours later. It had been nearly a day since Micky and Mike had been taken, and Peter desperately wanted them back. Night had fallen and they were all gathered together outside the hotel near Balthazar's car. They'd gone over the plan numerous times, but Peter was still sure that something was being left out. He nodded nonetheless.

"I have a question first," Dave asked putting his incantus back in his pocket. "How do we know where they're going to be?"

"Because I found out who took them and why," Balthazar answered. "A powerful sorcerer named Simon Adebisi found out about the legend of Merlin's staff and he wants it."

"Merlin's staff?" Davy asked still looking angry that they had waited this long to even start anything.

"Merlin forged it as a child, from the most powerful form of each element," Balthazar answered, directing everyone to get into the car as he spoke. Once inside, the car lifted off into the air rather than driving down the street. It threw Peter for a loop, but Balthazar continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "He used the hottest fires from the deepest volcano, the strongest winds from the highest mountains. The purest water from the depths of the ocean, and the strongest rock from the base of the earth. The magic contained in that staff was more powerful than the magic even he possesed. It began to corrupt him, so he tried to destroy it. Even with me, Horvath, and Veronica, we couldn't destroy it. So he concealed it. Locked it away from the rest of the world lest it fall into the wrong hands. Horvath, Veronica and I are the only ones who know it's location and the only ones who know how to get past it's protections."

"So Horvath wants it?" Peter asked.

"No," Balthazar answered. "Even Horvath knows how dangerous it is in the wrong hands. But if he thought there was someone who could wield it, he'd help them find it in return for his magic back. And protection."

"What do you mean?" Davy asked.

"The staff wouldn't have been created if it couldn't be used by someone," Balthazar answered. "Like Excalibur. You've all heard that tale, right? The only person who could use it was Arthur. Anyone else would be consumed by it. The same goes for the staff. Merlin never found it's rightful owner. Horvath may think there's a chance this sorcerer can. Or else he's just using this sorcerer to help him get his magic back."

"So that's where we're going?" Dave asked. "Wherever this staff is buried?"

"Precisely," Balthazar answered. "We can't let him get his hands on the staff either."

"So we enact the plan before he gets that far," Dave said.

"Exactly," Balthazar answered again.

"Dave, you're sure you can get that ring off Micky?" Davy asked worriedly.

"As long as you guys do what you're supposed to do and keep him safe from harm, yes," Dave answered. "Remember, you have to stay with him at all time. No matter what. You cannot leave his side."

"We won't," Peter answered honestly.

* * *

Mike and Micky were on the move again. They'd only rested at that house overnight, but as soon as morning came, they climbed back in the van. Through the night Micky had tried to convince Mike not to sacrifice himself, but Mike kept telling Micky to save his energy and keep quiet. He knew they were on their way to wherever the staff was hidden, but after a while he didn't feel the rumble of the road anymore. He glanced out the window and saw that the car was actually flying through the air like an airplane. He felt a little uneasy being that high up in the air, but he at least had faith that they couldn't let anything happen to Micky before the ring was done with him.

"Where are we going?" Mike asked as he started wiping Micky's face again. Micky moaned a little underneath him, but didn't do much else. He was nearly dead and Mike knew it. He didn't have enough time left. Mike hadn't decided if he was going to help Simon or not, but knew that he had to decide soon. If he helped Simon, Micky would survive, but at what cost? And if he helped Simon get the staff, Mike would be helping bring about the end of the world.

"England," Simon answered with a smile. "Home."

"So we are flying in a car?" Mike asked uneasily.

"Not to worry," Simon laughed. "I've done this numerous times. As long as we don't fly too low, we'll be fine. What you should be worrying about is the decision you have to make. It's a very big decision, my friend."

"I'm not your friend," Mike snapped. "Stop calling me that."

"Have you made up your mind?" Simon asked. "Are you going to sacrifice yourself to save your friends life?"

"There's more on the line than just that," Mike answered angrily. "You'll make his life a living hell. And my other friends. Death may be better than what you'll do to him. And I can't even know for sure you'll keep your word."

"True," Simon laughed. "But I've kept my word so far, haven't I. I gave you the opportunity to leave, but you refused. And I've allowed you to care for your friend in his final hours. And I can promise you that I will not only leave him alone once I bring him back, but I will leave your other friends alone. I will make sure that no matter what happens to the rest of the world, no harm befalls them. In honor of your sacrifice. What do you say?"

"I don't know," Mike answered looking down at Micky. Part of him knew that somehow he could trust Simon to keep true to his word, but that didn't mean that other people in the world wouldn't die or suffer. The other friends they've made and complete strangers. Davy's grandfather. His own Aunt Kate. Even Mr. Babbit. Could he really sacrifice all of them just to save Micky?


	18. The Choice

Author's Note: Please review!

Chapter 18: The Choice

Mike was dreading what he knew was about to happen. He knew Simon was determined to get that staff, so what would he do if Mike said no? If he refused to sacrifice himself? It would mean letting Micky die, but would it also mean that he would just threaten someone else to do it? Let some other innocent person go through what he was going through. He couldn't let that happen. And yet, he couldn't help bring about the end of the world either. He knew that's what would happen. Simon would become too powerful for anyone to stop, take over the world, and enslave humanity. Make them do his bidding...whatever he wanted. Mike couldn't let that happen either.

He was still torn as the car stopped on a cliffside in what Mike guessed was England. The air was cold and Simon handed Mike a jacket as he got out of the back of the van. He looked back at his friend, not wanting to leave him and hoping that one more glance would give him the answer he needed. Micky was asleep, but it wasn't like the way he'd been sleeping before. He was very nearly dead. He had nothing left in him. His chest was only barely rising and Mike could only tell because his shirt was soaked with sweat and clung tightly to him. He'd felt Micky pulse only an hour ago and could barely feel it's slow, unsteady rhythm.

"Well, Mike?" Simon asked. "What are you going to do?"

"What are you going to do if I say no?" Mike asked quietly. "Torture someone else into saying yes?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to get that staff," Simon answered honestly. Mike had his answer. Simon would simply kidnap someone else and torture them or torture someone they loved until they agreed to do what he wanted. But in the meantime, Mike could try and stop Simon before any real harm was done. Micky wouldn't want to live if it meant bringing about slavery and death. As much as he loved and cared for Micky, Mike just couldn't do it. But he'd pretend he would long enough to hope and pray for an opportunity to put a stop to Simon for good. So he couldn't hurt anyone else.

"You swear you'll leave my friends alone?" Mike asked pretending to go along with Simon. "You swear you'll bring Micky back?"

"On my honor," Simon answered with a sickening smile.

"Do we leave him here?" Mike asked.

"Yes, but he'll be well guarded," Simon answered. He waved and a few men came out of the forest nearby. "Watch him." Simon ordered the men who nodded and moved in between Mike and the Micky, blocking him from further view.

"Are we going or not?" Maxim Horvath asked coming out from the drivers seat and leaning on his cane.

"Are we, Mike?" Simon asked turning to Mike.

"Yes," Mike answered looking down at the ground. "I'll help you."

"Excellent choice, Mike," Simon said with a smile and motioned for Horvath to lead the way. Mike said nothing as they walked through the forest. The entire time he kept thinking of the number of ways he could stop Simon, but he was outnumbered. Simon had magic on his side and Horvath. If it were to work, Mike would have to make sure it was done fast. And now there were a couple of men guarding Micky, so would he even be able to fight them off, too? Even if Micky were to die in that van, there's no way Mike would leave him behind.

It seemed as though they were walking for hours, but Mike wasn't sure exactly how long it was before they reached a large cave covered by a pile of rocks as though buried by a landslide. Horvath indicated that what they were looking for was in there and Simon quickly moved the rocks aside magically. Once the rocks were cleared out of the way, they made their way through the cave until Horvath suddenly came to a stop. The cave dead-ended in front of him.

"What is it?" Simon asked a little angrily as Horvath just stared at the back wall of the cave.

"This shouldn't be here," Horvath said. "There should be a door here."

"Well, where is it?" Simon asked.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't just be standing here!" Horvath snapped. Mike thought he heard the sound of crunching rocks behind him, but didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if it was help or danger, so instead readied himself to run either way.

"What could have happened to it?" Simon snapped back.

"The only thing that could have hidden the door would be magic," Horvath said. "Balthazar."

"You rang?" said a voice behind Mike. Before Simon or Horvath could react, a large gust of wind swept through the whole cave. It was as if a tornado were ripping through the tiny space, but instead of being knocked off his feet and launched into the back wall of the cave like Simon and Horvath, Mike was pulled backwards off his feet; as though an invisible hand had grabbed him by the back of the shirt and yanked him backwards. He fell onto the ground, but felt a pair of hands pick him back up. When he looked up, he was grateful to be looking into the eyes of his friends, Peter and Davy.

"We have to go," Dave whispered standing behind them. "Balthazar will stall them. But you have to come with us if we're going to save Micky. Now." Mike nodded and raced out of the cave with his friends. He cast a glance over his shoulder to see Balthazar still holding his own against Simon and Horvath. Simon was trying to fight back, but was having a hard time due to the strong wind.

"Micky's being guarded," Mike informed them when they reached the mouth of the cave.

"I can deal with them," Dave answered. "Let's just go." Mike followed them through the rest of the forest toward the van where Micky was still lying. They slowed down as they reached the start of the forest so they could sneak up on the men guarding the van with Micky in it.

"How are you going to get rid of them?" Peter asked.

"By getting a little creative," Dave answered. He closed his eyes and a few of the trees near him suddenly sprang to life. Peter jumped back and nearly cried out in shock, but Mike clapped his hand over Peter's mouth. They couldn't afford to be drawing attention to themselves; they had to let Dave do his magic while hiding or they'd have to fight. The trees walked toward the van and the two men guarding the van jumped in fright. They looked for a second as though they wanted to fight, but weren't sure what to do, so they turned and ran leaving the van unguarded.

"It worked!" Davy whispered excitedly.

"Go!" Dave said pushing Davy and Peter off ahead of him. "We don't have time."

"You can save him?" Mike asked as he ran after them. "He's nearly dead. Please tell me you can actually save him."

"I can, but I need your help," Dave answered as they reached the van.

"What can we do to help?" Peter asked.

"Get him out of the van first," Dave said. Mike, Davy and Peter didn't hesitate and grabbed Micky carefully. It felt like rocks settling down in Mike's stomach as he realized that Micky just felt like dead weight in their arms. Dave took a thick blanket out of a bag hanging off his shoulders and laid it down on the ground before they carefully set Micky down on it. They carefully wrapped him in the blanket to keep him warm. "Are you all willing to do whatever it takes to save him?"

"Absolutely," Peter answered without skipping a beat. Davy and Mike nodded their agreement.

"Ok, Mike, sit there and hold his head in your lap," Dave ordered. "Peter and Davy sit at either side. The only way to disenchant the ring is to overload it like you would a circuit. You put too much energy into it, it breaks. So that's what we're going to do here. You're going to give your energy to the ring, too. It'll overload it and break it."

"How do we do that?" Davy asked.

"And how does that bring Micky back?" Peter asked. "He looks dead already."

"He's not," Dave said. "He's on the brink. We don't have a lot of time. You're going to give him your energy which will overload the ring and give him the energy back. It won't kill you, but it'll definitely hurt and you'll all need some recovery time. You'll have to trust me and Balthazar to keep you safe after."

"Just tell us what to do," Mike said not really caring. Whatever he needed to do to save Micky, he'd do without a second thought.

"Just hold still for a second," Dave said pulling more out of his bag, including a large knife. Dave lit a few candles and moved to put them in a circle around them before sitting down at Micky's feet. He then handed the knife to Peter first. "This is why we didn't tell you the whole plan. You're each going to have to bleed a little. Just make a small cut on each of your palms. Nothing big. Just enough to draw out a little blood. It makes the energy transference easier. Then you're going to have to hold hands with each other and Micky. The rest will be up to me. And no matter what happens, you cannot let go of each other and you can't let go of Micky."

"What might happen?" Davy asked.

"It'll hurt, for one," Dave said. "For another, I don't know how long Balthazar can hold off Horvath. They may come and try and attack us. I'll be putting up a protective shield, but they'll try and attack it anyway if they come out. And the trees are still alive. Just don't let go of him."

"We won't," Mike said looking from Peter to Davy. They each nodded their agreement. Mike winced a little as Peter took the knife and pressed it into his palms before handing it to Mike. He knew they would each do whatever it took to save Micky. Mike did the same thing, but didn't feel much pain. His hands were frozen and his adrenaline was rushing too much to really feel much of anything. Davy was the last one and handed the knife back to Dave. Mike took Peter and Davy's hands and they each grabbed Micky's. Dave closed his eyes and Mike saw the same type of shield that Micky had conjured when they'd been shot at by Drake and Abigail. He then started mumbling something and placed his hands over Micky's feet.

As soon as he did this, Mike felt a burning hot sensation in his hands where he'd cut himself. His first instinct was to let go of Davy and Peter like one would if they were clutching a hot teakettle, but he forced himself to keep his grip. He felt Davy and Peter slip for a second, but he gripped their hands tightly again, not allowing them to let go. It reminded them to keep their hold on Micky and just sit through the pain. If it brought Micky back, it would be well worth it.

After a few minutes, the heat hadn't gone away, but Mike did notice Micky's breathing start to pick up and between Davy's fingers, Micky's ring was once again glowing. Off in the distance, he noticed that there were some sounds off in the distance. He guessed that Balthazar was having trouble fighting off Horvath and Simon and hoped this would be over soon so they could just run. Without the ring working anymore, there wouldn't be any reason for them to come after Micky anymore.

Mike started to feel weak and felt a sharp pain in his stomach as the time progressed. He knew this was the same feelings Micky felt as he suffered the energy drain from the ring and felt horrible. The pain he felt almost made him want to throw up and to know Micky felt this for weeks broke Mike's heart. He knew there wasn't anything he could have done to help Micky, but he still felt as though he should have done something more.

When Mike had almost gotten to the point where he felt he was going to pass out, he heard a groan escape from Micky's lips. Micky was slowly coming back. But the noises from the cave were growing louder. He could hear people running towards them and hear the sounds of fighting. The ground shook for a moment as a tree nearby suddenly erupted in fire, but they stayed where they were. Dave had told them to sit there no matter what. The shield would protect them; but Mike still felt uneasy feeling the heat coming off from the flaming tree.

"How much longer?" Peter asked, his voice echoing the same amount of fear and worry Mike felt.

"Just keep holding on," Mike said knowing Dave couldn't answer. "Shouldn't be much longer."

"Micky's breathing again," Davy said. "The ring is burning my hand."

"I know, Davy, but you have to hang on," Mike said. Mike felt a shudder as something hit the shield and he again almost let go, but gripped a lot more tightly onto Peter and Davy. He looked over and saw Horvath, Simon and Balthazar. Balthazar was trying to keep them from getting too close, but he was a little outnumbered. Horvath didn't have any magic, but he was still putting up a pretty good fight. Simon kept launching what looked like balls of electricity at them and each time it hit, the shield shuddered and made a loud cracking sound.

"I don't feel good," Peter said. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"Hang on, Peter," Mike instructed.

"It's done," Dave said as Mike saw the ring glow bright white and a popping sound emanated from it before it broke in half and fell to the ground. Davy exclaimed in pain and finally let go of Micky, clutching his hand in pain.

"Micky's gonna be ok?" Peter asked clutching his own stomach.

"Yes," Dave said. "I know you're all weak and don't feel good, but you have to get him to the car. I know I said I'd help, but I have to help Balthazar. Go!"

"Of course," Mike said as he stood up. He was a little woozy and wanted to fall over so it took him a second to gain his bearings. Davy and Peter had a hard time, too, but eventually they were all able to stand as Dave ran toward the fight Balthazar seemed to be losing. Mike grabbed Micky under the shoulders and Peter and Davy grabbed his feet and led the way toward Balthazar's car. They climbed in and Peter jumped in the driver's seat. Mike sat with Micky's head still in his lap and watched as the color came back to his face and his chest rose and fell. He was coming back.

Peter drove the car toward the fight and Davy popped open the door allowing Dave and Balthazar to jump in so they could all escape. Simon threw a few more shots their way, but Balthazar waved his hand and suddenly he was now behind the steering wheel. The car lifted off the ground and began to fly away, out of reach of the attacks of Simon and Horvath. They were all free for the time being and Micky was alive. He was going to be ok. They just had to make sure it stayed that way.


	19. Resolution

Author's Note: Really hope you enjoyed the story! Review!

Chapter 19: Resolution

Micky opened his eyes a little bit. He wasn't sure where he was, but he felt comfortable. He was still in a very large amount of pain, but he was on a comfortable bed with a comfortable pillow. He felt a cold, wet cloth touching his forehead a little as he opened his eyes a little more. He groaned a little as he tried to move; even the slightest movement sent pain shooting through his whole body.

"Ssh," a soft voice said to him. "Don't try to move. Just relax. You're safe now."

"Where am I?" Micky asked.

"You're safe," the woman said. "Just relax. You're in Dave's secret hideout."

"Dave's hideout?" Micky echoed and winced again. Even talking sent pain through his whole body.

"Yes, just relax," the woman said.

"He's awake!" Micky heard Peter say excitedly from somewhere in the distance.

"Peter, sit back down," Mike said as Micky tried to lift his head enough to look around the room. He saw four beds in what looked like an old abandoned sewer, though it smelled better. His was one of the beds and Davy, Mike and Peter each had another. Peter was getting off his bed, but sat back down as Mike scolded him. They all looked like they'd been through hell, too, though Micky wasn't sure why.

"He's right, Peter," the woman said with a smile. "Don't overwhelm him anyway. You all need your rest." The woman tending to him had blonde hair that hung in soft curls and green eyes.

"What's going on?" Micky asked as more pain rushed through his body. Mike pushed himself up a little, but it looked painful even to do that.

"The ring is gone," Mike explained. "It's been destroyed. Dave and Balthazar figured out a way to destroy it."

"How?" Micky asked.

"Overload it," Mike answered. "We gave you some of our energy and it kind of short circuited it."

"Which is why you should all be resting," said another woman coming down the stairs. She was beautiful with long brown hair that flowed straight down her back.

"We are," Peter said. "We're doing better."

"Still having the stomach pains?" she asked.

"Somewhat," Mike answered. "More when I move."

"You gave up a lot for your friend," she said. "Don't expect to recover from that overnight. How's the burn on your hand, Mr. Jones?"

"It's fine," Davy answered holding up a bandaged hand. Before Micky could even ask what she was talking about, Davy turned to Micky and answered. "I burned it holding your hand when the ring broke. It scalded my hand a little, but I couldn't let go or the energy transfer or whatever wouldn't work and you would have died."

"You could have died doing what you did," Micky said imagining just how much they had to give up.

"Your point is?" Mike asked as though Micky's statement were a stupid one.

"I don't want you guys giving up your lives for me," Micky said.

"We didn't," Peter pointed out.

"You would have," Micky said. "Mike was planning to."

"What does he mean?" Davy asked eying Mike.

"I wasn't going to, Micky," Mike said. "I was just pretending to go along with him in the hopes I could stall him. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Micky asked. "I wouldn't have wanted to live knowing you gave up your life for me. You know that."

"I know," Mike said.

"What are you guys talking about?" Peter asked.

"The staff Balthazar told you about that Simon wanted…" Mike started to explain after a heavy sigh. "He needed someone to sacrifice themselves to get it. It was one of the barriers protecting it. And he couldn't just kill someone. They had to kill themselves. He said if I did it, he'd bring Micky back to life. And he'd leave you guys alone when he took over the world."

"You were gonna do it?" Peter asked.

"No," Mike said.

"You were thinking about it," Micky said remembering how torn Mike looked when Simon had first brought it up.

"Well of course I was, Micky!" Mike exclaimed. "I didn't want you to die! You were literally dying in my arms and that was the only way out I saw!"

"But you decided not to?" Davy asked as though he were making sure.

"I couldn't bring myself to do it," Mike admitted. "I couldn't risk the rest of the world just to save Micky. I know he would have hated me for it."

"You're damn right I would have," Micky said.

"None of that really matters now," the blonde said. "You all need to be resting."

"I'm Veronica, by the way," the brunette said, "and this is Becky. Balthazar and Dave are out making sure that the immediate danger is over. From what we can tell, Simon and Horvath took off when they realized the ring is broken. Simon wants that staff, but he can't get it without Horvath, me or Balthazar and he knows Horvath is the only one willing to help."

"So they went running with their tails between their legs!" Davy laughed.

"In a manner of speaking," Becky said when Veronica looked at him as though he were speaking a foreign language. "You'll have to forgive Veronica. She's still not used to the way we speak in this modern era. She was sort of locked away for several hundred years."

"So they aren't after us anymore?" Mike asked.

"Not for now," Veronica answered. "They may be thinking up another plan, but I doubt it would involve the four of you in any way. Word has also spread to Drake Stone and Abigail Williams that the ring was destroyed, so you shouldn't hear from them either. But we're keeping you here safe, just in case. At least until you all recover."

"How long with that take?" Micky asked looking worriedly at his friends. He still wasn't really able to come to terms with the fact they'd given up their energies for him.

"For them, just a day or two," Veronica said. "For you, a few days. You very nearly died. How is your pain level?"

"I'm in pain," Micky admitted. "My whole body hurts."

"That's to be expected," Veronica said. "Drink this water. I'll bring some food later. You have a lot of recovery to do. Your body had very nearly shut down. You have to replenish your nutrients in order to get your body back in working order."

"Thank you, Veronica," Micky said taking the water from her. Over the next few days, Micky did indeed get steadily better. His friends had gained all their energy back and Peter and Davy were anxious and bouncing around trying to help Micky get better faster while Mike was doing what he did best: trying to keep them under control. Balthazar and Dave had come back a few times to check on them and inform them that they hadn't been able to find Horvath or any of the others; nor had they heard anything about any future plans. This was good news for the boys because it meant they would more than likely be left alone once they went home.

Three days after just waking up, Micky decided he wanted to try and get up and walk around. He'd always been too weak before and the slightest movement always hurt, but today he was feeling better. He pushed himself up in the bed and slowly swung his feet over the end of the bed till his feet were on the stone floor.

"Micky, what are you doing?" Mike asked rushing over to him and trying to get him to lie back down.

"I need to move around," Micky said. "I'm going crazy just sitting here in bed like this."

"You still need to recover," Mike argued.

"I am recovering," Micky said. "Moving doesn't hurt as much anymore and I have more strength. Please just let me try this?"

"Ok, but very slow and you'll let me help you," Mike said holding his arm out for Micky to grab. Micky reluctantly grabbed it; he wanted to do it on his own, but he knew Mike wouldn't let him without help. Slowly, Micky stood up and almost fell, but Mike helped keep him steady using his own weight and strength.

"Just take it slow, Micky," Peter said.

"Don't over-do it, Mate," Davy added.

"I'm fine, guys," Micky insisted as he tried to take a step forward. He felt pain shoot through his body, but didn't want to give up just yet. It took Micky nearly half an hour to slowly make it only a few feet from the bed before he couldn't do it anymore and let Mike carry him back to the bed. He tried again the next morning and was able to make it even further. By the third attempt, he had become able to at least shuffle in a circle around the beds with Mike's assistance. He had to admit that without Mike holding onto him, he probably would have fallen several times.

"Well, I think we can help you get home within a few days," Balthazar said that night. "We've pretty much confirmed they've gone underground; probably cooking up a new plan, but you can leave that to us to take care of. You can get on with your lives."

"What I don't understand is how this even happened," Davy said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked. "Micky put on the ring."

"Yeah, but he put on the ring found at a dig that I helped uncover without even remembering how I did it," Davy said. "It just seems a little weird when you think about it. I was drawn to that place where the ring was even buried when I was just a kid. As though I knew where it was. But I don't even remember it."

"I think I can answer that," Veronica said as she handed Micky a plate of food. "I read through Merlin's diary and found a mention of the ring. The four of you were destined to find that ring. Only the four of you would have had the power to destroy that ring. Merlin predicted it. He wrote that only four men bonded by the most powerful magic ever known to mankind would have the strength to destroy the ring and survive."

"But we don't have any magic," Peter said.

"The most powerful magic ever known to man is love," Balthazar said with a soft glance at Veronica. "The way the four of you love each other like family; that's more powerful than any magic Dave and I could have performed. You love each other enough to die for each other. A lot of people say they'd die for their friends and loved ones, but I've been around a long time and that's actually a pretty rare thing."

"So this was all pre-destined?" Micky asked.

"I believe so, yes," Veronica answered. "Now eat. You still need your strength." Micky smiled and started eating. Over the next few days, Micky completely regained his strength. And by the time Balthazar took them all home, he was running around the pad nearly hugging everything saying how much he missed it all: the stuffed vulture, the chimp, and especially Mr. Schnieder. Dave laughed at Micky's antics and Balthazar managed a smile. Mike merely shook his head knowing how Micky already was and Peter and Davy took a second before joining him.

"You guys gonna be ok?" Balthazar asked.

"I think we'll be fine," Mike answered. "Things appear to be back to normal here."

"This is normal?" Dave laughed.

"Yep," Micky said collapsing into a chair. "There's a reason we're called the Monkees."


End file.
